


Forever Stained

by i_kinda_like_writing



Category: Check Please! (Webcomic)
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Crying, Families of Choice, Getting Together, Happy Ending, Homesickness, Homophobia, Homophobic Language, Internalized Homophobia, M/M, Mild Blood, Minor Violence, Panic Attacks, Team as Family, Triggers, like a shit ton of crying
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-10
Updated: 2016-11-17
Packaged: 2018-08-29 23:45:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 21,218
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8510356
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/i_kinda_like_writing/pseuds/i_kinda_like_writing
Summary: It’s the same day that Will receives his letter from Samwell telling him he’s got a full ride that Will’s life as he knows it ends.





	1. the ambiguity of tears

**Author's Note:**

> Hey! This fic was a whirlwind let me tell you. I wrote this in about a week and a half- a new record for me in terms of how long this is!- and I'm really super proud of it! It's kind of poetic wish-wash at some points and maybe a little too symbolic but I had fun writing it and I've been in a weird place recently so I think this fic helped me work through some of it.  
> Anywho, some things to know about the fic; when words are in italics, like whole sentences, and inside quotes, that means those words are spoken in a different language; in this fic, that's Spanish.  
> Warnings before going into it in case you didn't see the tags; homophobia and homophobic language in this chapter.  
> Enjoy!

          It’s the same day that Will receives his letter from Samwell telling him he’s got a full ride that Will’s life as he knows it ends. His parents praise him, his ma cries and presses wet kisses against his cheeks, and his dad looks on, proud but manly and unemotional, and Will knows that it’s how he’s supposed to show emotion. They throw a party for him, inviting all of his friends from school. Will tells his best friend, Liam, the news in the quiet privacy of his bedroom and they share another secret without speaking, just reading by feeling the cracks in one another’s lips like blind men seeking knowledge with a thirst that only those who know darkness can crave light and it would have been a beautiful end to a day that started out perfect.

          Then the unexpected happens, though one could say it was perfectly predictable, and the broken lock on Will’s door is opened and his shared secret with Liam is revealed and his mother runs from the room crying like she was this morning but they aren’t happy tears and Will wonders at how happy tears and sad tears would look the same if it wasn’t for how he felt about them. He tells Liam to run and packs a bag with everything he can fit in it- _skates, a picture of his family from two years ago on the beach, a stick, shirts, his phone, his wallet and keys, pants, the keychain his little sister made him for his birthday last year, underwear, the card he was plaining to give his dad for father’s day_ \- and he just remembers to grab socks when his dad shows up in the doorway with murder in his eyes.

          Will gets by him with just a black eye, a bloody nose, and a split lip, the hands that held his as he learned to walk and the hands that taught his own how to punch leaving scars in their wake as they grab angrily for the son they no longer have. Will runs through the party, seeing nothing and hearing music, and inexplicably the song _American Pie_ is playing and he can’t help but remember how this song always used to make him cry. He runs out of the house, now hearing _Never come back, faggot!_ in the tune of _Bye, bye Miss American Pie_ and he remembers the pie he tasted at Samwell this year, made by the tiny forward with the big smile.

          Will jumps into the truck he got from his uncle, who got it from his dad before him, and starts it up. He pulls away from the house he grew up in and doesn’t stop driving until he reaches the beach where he kissed a girl for the very first time and then he goes a little farther down to the hidden alcove where he kissed a boy for the very first time and he cries until he can’t tell the difference between his tears and the sea.

 

          Will stays in town until his graduation, gets his diploma dressed in clothes he hasn’t washed since May out of fear of seeing his mom at the laundromat and he doesn’t look towards the spot his parents sat in for his older brother’s graduation once- except he does because he can’t help it and it’s as empty as Will’s smile when he poses for a picture with the principal, a picture he knows he’ll never see. He doesn’t stop to talk, doesn’t look Liam’s way because he’s angry that Liam still has a home, and he gets in his truck and drives to the state line and walks barefoot in whatever water he can find.

          This is the day he gets his first tattoo. He walks into a tattoo shop and tells the artist flat out that he has been disowned by his family so he doesn’t have a guardian but he’d like a tattoo, please. The man turns him down. So Will goes driving around until he finds a shop that will humor him, knowing full well that it’s going to be the sketchiest shop in the world, and then he gets his tattoo. It doesn’t hurt more than his father’s fist had hurt against his cheek so he doesn’t complain as he gets it.

          He’s actually happy with the result; it’s a pair of work boots, the same pair he saw on the floor next to his front door every day of his life, tied together at the string, drawn as if they’re hanging from a peg. It’s simple, about an inch in diameter, but it was born from the phrase Will’s grandma always used to say, “If God sends you down a stony path, may he give you strong shoes.” It’s on the inside of his ankle, he thought it made enough sense, and it’s easily hidden with a sock. Over the course of the next few months, he finds himself rubbing at it absentmindedly every once in a while.

 

          He uses the money he took with him when he left up until after graduation. Then, he drives down to Massachusetts and gets a job working at a garage two towns outside of Samwell. He rents an apartment down the road; it’s on top of a bar and it’s always loud, but the rent’s cheap and the landlord doesn’t question Will’s young age of seventeen and she lets him have some cheap liquor for free, so it’s a pretty good deal. He stops going by “Will”, since no one here knows him as Will anymore, and starts going by “Dex” instead.

 

          “Dex,” calls José one day three weeks into Dex’s job working at the garage. “C’mere, _gringo_ , I’mma teach you some Spanish.”

          José says he’s annoyed that Dex never knows what he’s asking for when he asks for a tool in Spanish, so Dex starts learning the names for tools in Spanish. Then, on lunch breaks, the guys speak Spanish, so Dex picks up conversational words. He doesn’t talk much with anyone else, so he starts to speak just Spanish to people every day. His mouth learns how to bend around the accents and twists and he starts to like the way it tastes in his mouth better than English does.

 

          “ _Where are you from, kid?_ ” Nestor asks one day during lunch. He’d just split his arroz con pollo with Dex, the one his wife makes, and she’s a damn good cook.

          “Maine,” Dex says, mouth hard around the accent he still can’t shake in English. He digs in to his shared meal and hopes that this will be the end of it.

          “ _How’d you end up down here?_ ” he asks next.

          “ _Drove,_ ” says Dex, quirking the corner of his mouth up. Nestor laughs and exclaims in Spanish, something Dex isn’t sure the meaning of but he assumes it’s something to the effect of “This white boy is ridiculous!” because he says it every time Dex mouths off. Nestor nudges Dex in the back of the head with his knuckles, berating but soft, and shakes his head, his eyes smiling.

          “ _Tell me a story then,_ ” he says. “ _If you won’t tell the truth.”_

          So Dex tells them a story about his life, half in English half in Spanish. In his tale, he’s the son of a rich Maine socialite, sent here by his father to learn what an honest day’s work is. José laughs at this and points to Dex’s hands, saying that there is no way those hands haven’t seen hard work.

          A week later, Ernesto asks for a new story, a better one, and Dex uses only Spanish, making up words when he doesn’t know one, to tell them about his quest to find the murderer of his sister. He’s been chasing this man for fourteen years in a quest to avenge her death and all of his clues have led him here. Nestor says that he isn’t old enough to have been searching for fourteen years and then hands Dex an orange. Dex eats it with a smile.

          Two weeks later, alone as they work on a car, José asks for the truth. Dex tells him that he’s simply here from Maine to go to college and he got here early to scout for a job. José smiles with his teeth, but his eyes are sad, so Dex stops telling stories and keeps his answers short.

 

          Dex’s landlord’s name is Jenny; she’s tall, tattooed, and loves bandanas with a passion. She teaches Dex how to make drinks and sets him up behind the counter on nights when he can’t sleep. She sits in between a group of large men and laughs uproariously as Dex talks to people from all over the country, the world even. They tell him about their lives, their families and lost loves, and he listens to it all like someone would read a book. He lets himself fall into their lives, a fantasy of sorts, and for a moment, he isn’t a seventeen year old bartender with no home.

          “I’ll tell you something, kid,” Jenny says at the end of a night. A biker with a beard so thick it should get its own chair has his head in her lap and she’s stroking the side of his face with the kind of tenderness mothers have for their own children. “Bartenders make the best friends because they won’t judge you for shit and they know how to make a damn good drink.” She laughs at her own joke and tangles her fingers in the man’s beard. She smiles sleepily and asks, “You judgin’ me?”

          “Got nothing to judge,” Dex says, drying off a glass. English still feels weird in his mouth, _Maine_ still feels weird in his mouth, but he likes the way it sounds better when he’s talking softly to Jenny at four in the morning.

          “Ah, that means nothing. It’s always the quiet ones that have the darkest secrets.” She squints at him, drunk and sneaky. “What’s your deep, dark secret, Dex?”

          Dex acts as if he’s considering it, then says decisively, “I dye my hair.”

          Jenny laughs so hard the biker falls out of her lap.

 

          Dex knows that the hockey season starts at the end of the summer, so he trains daily in his apartment. He needs his hockey scholarship now more than ever; without it, he can’t go to school. He needs to go to school.

 

          On the Fourth of July, Dex walks to the park, having a day off from the garage and the bar. He sits on a bench and watches the fireworks go off. He finds that they aren’t as beautiful when they aren’t reflected off of the water.

          Afterwards, a beautiful man who says he’s seventeen offers to split a joint with Dex and Dex blows him in the bathroom of the bar next door and he wonders why he did it the next morning when all he can think about is if his family is having French toast for breakfast.

 

          Dex gets another tattoo two weeks later. Jenny recommended him to the place. They do something called “watercolor” tattoos and they look beautiful, so Dex gets a black triangle with a smear of _redorangeyellow_ over it inside his right forearm, high up towards the elbow. It looked to him like a fire that couldn’t be contained and he likes the reminder.

          He laughs louder at Jenny’s jokes and speaks in Spanish whenever the mood strikes him and he makes up words out of the bits of Spanish he knows and the Maine he remembers and uses these words when he doesn’t know how he’s feeling. He doesn’t contain himself anymore; he acts in the way Will always wanted to and he doesn’t question his decisions. A fire doesn’t question its decisions and a fire doesn’t get hurt. It just takes and takes until it is the only thing there is.

 

          His fire burns out by August when Jenny finds him drunk and sobbing on his bathroom floor and he tells her everything, anything. He talks about the lobster he caught when he was twelve that was the biggest the boat had ever seen, talks about how it felt when he kissed Ronnie Williams in the seventh grade and how it felt just as good as kissing Parker Stephens in tenth, talks about holding his little sister for the first time and how it felt when Liam said _I love you_ and how it felt when his father called him a faggot and his mother cried like she had lost a son when he was standing right in front of her.

          Jenny holds him and listens and makes him a drink of chocolate milk with the Hershey’s chocolate syrup she has in her fridge for sundaes. Dex tells her she’d make a good bartender and she cries back at him. It’s then that he realizes that tears aren’t just happy or sad and also that chocolate milk is underrated.

 

          Jenny sometimes gives Dex _looks_ after that, like she wants to wrap him up in a blanket and protect him from the world, but it’s still better than before. He doesn’t feel as heavy, so he can carry himself taller, and he starts to feel more like himself than he’s ever felt in his life.

 

          The day before he leaves for Samwell, he gets his third and fourth tattoos. He gets a balloon on his left shoulder blade, small as anything and empty save for some shading. It’s simple, black, and Dex can only see it if he contorts himself in front of a mirror. Then, he gets a small cat outline, a single line unfinished and open, with pink and purple splashed inside. This he gets on his left wrist, small but noticeable. It’s for his sister, Kitty, who turns eleven the day he gets it and asks her mom where Will is as she blows out the candles on her cake.


	2. a war with the past

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Samwell is the perfect place for Dex to be himself.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello! Next chapter is up as promised! This one is a lot longer than the first one, I know, and there's a lot going on behind the scenes with the other characters that I don't and won't go into, so if something seems vague just assume there's more going on there.  
> Anywho, same with the last chapter; italicized words in between quotes are spoken in Spanish, usually. Also, there's one poem in here, which is also italicized, but it's fairly obvious that it's a poem, I think.  
> Warnings in this chapter for panic attacks, dealing with triggers, and somewhat internalized homophobia, though it's very mild.  
> Enjoy!

          Samwell is the perfect place for Dex to be himself.

          He can act reserved and the team will still prod at him until he opens up. He can be loud and passionate and they’ll be right alongside him, yelling with him. He can stick his nose in a book or watch a loud action movie on his laptop; either way, someone will be there to sit next to him as he does it.

          Shitty rants about the things Will had always been too scared to speak of. Bitty moves around the kitchen with a familiarity Will had always been told not to have. Holster and Ransom touch one another in a way that would’ve gotten Will beaten unconscious. Dex loves them all for these things and so much more. Chowder teaches Dex how to laugh without caring; Jack helps Dex to learn how to work hard without hurting at the thought; Lardo shows up whenever Dex is feeling like he’s going to burn out, somehow knowing exactly what he needs.

          Dex loves his team more than he ever thought he could love someone he wasn’t related to, and they instantly fill in the hole his parents left in him. He’s so happy he’s delirious and he doesn’t give a shit.

 

          Nursey makes Dex want to burn. He’s beautiful and awful and sometimes Dex wants to punch him but sometimes he wants to caress his cheek and he doesn’t know what to do with that feeling. So he focuses on the anger and hopes the rest won’t show because Nursey is infuriating and Dex _hates_ it.

           Nursey doesn’t understand, can’t understand, what Dex has gone through with working for every meal, aching in every bone in his body as he attempts to make enough money for the heating that month. Nursey has gotten everything in his life handed to him and then he walks around like it means nothing. He spouts his poetry, repeats his “chill,”, and doesn’t stop for a moment to consider what it must be like to have to work for everything in life.

          Nothing comes for free and Dex knows that when it feels easy, that’s when it gets the hardest.

 

          Dex is drying off after practice one day, eyes catching on Kitty’s tattoo every once in a while. He’s wondering how her first day of middle school is going so far when Nursey plops down on the bench next to him. Ollie is out sick today and Ransom is over at Holster’s locker, so there’s no buffer between them, and Nursey is staring intently at the triangle on Dex’s forearm.

          “That’s, like, ridiculously beautiful,” Nursey says, eyes still on the fire covering Dex’s skin.

          Dex hasn’t ever been complimented on his tattoos before, so he simply says, “Thanks,” and pulls on a shirt.

          “Would you be able to tell me who gave it to you? I’ve been itching for some watercolor ink and I don’t know anyone around here who does it. Or does it well.” His eyes flit away from the tattoo, up to Dex’s face, and he looks so serious that Dex decides this can’t be a chirp. “They local?”

          “Yeah,” says Dex. “I, uh, I can take you one day, I guess. They’re a little territorial about it, but if you’ve got an in they’ll take you.”

          Nursey grins, wide and simple. “Sweet.”

 

          Dex uses his drink making skills to woo a girl at the next kegster. Her kisses are sticky sweet and she makes the hottest noises when she comes and afterwards Dex goes back to the party and ends up playing Would You Rather with the rest of the team.

          “Would you rather eat bull testicles or drink your own pee?” Holster asks, because he’s gross. It causes some controversy, but the overall consensus is bull testicles.

          “Would you rather fight a rhino sized cat or ten cat sized rhinos?” This question from Chowder leads to a ten minute long debate over whether or not a rhino-sized cat claw could kill you and the resulting answer is _probably_.

          Then Lardo’s mouth quirks a little, her eyes going just slightly devious, and she leans into the middle of the group and asks, “Would you rather be in love or be loved, but neither at the same time?”

          The team decides that being in love wouldn’t hurt anyone but yourself, so that would be the better choice if you’re selfless. Dex has always considered himself a selfless person but he wants nothing more than to be loved, so he keeps his answer to himself.

 

          It’s early on a Sunday morning, a time when Will would have been at mass, and he’s standing outside a tattoo parlor with Nursey next to him. It’s cold, so they’re both shivering, Dex because his winter jacket is more of a hoodie and Nursey because he’s dumb and probably doesn’t have a winter jacket. Jenny’s sister, Mary Ann who everyone calls Andy, comes to the door to unlock it, since the shop technically doesn’t open until four in the afternoon on Sundays. Andy made an exception because Dex is going to fix her water heater.

          “Fuck it’s cold as balls out here,” Andy curses and turns back into the shop.

          “How would you know what balls are like?” Dex asks as he hurries into the semi-warmth of the store, as Andy is very gay. Andy fakes a laugh.

          “Ha _ha_ , funny guy. Mine are bigger than yours for sure.” Dex gives her a skeptical look and she says, “Don’t make me take ‘em out to measure.” Dex backs off, nodding his head in surrender, and Andy smiles with half her mouth. She makes her way around the counter to find the note she left herself about Nursey’s tattoo. She seems to give up on finding it, because she looks up and asks, “So what’re we doing today?”

          “Giving him a tattoo,” Dex says, ‘cause he’s an asshole.

          “Don’t make me throw your smartass outta here. Just ‘cause you went to a big fancy college doesn’t make you smarter than me.” Her eyes drift over to Nursey. “Who’s he, again?”

          “Nurse, he goes to the big fancy college with me.” People here don’t know he plays hockey and, for some reason, he wants them to know as little as possible about him. He’s probably coming back here next summer, so he has to keep a low profile or someone might recognize him and send him back to Maine. Sometimes he wonders if anyone up there is looking for him, but if they were it would probably be to “cure” him or kill him, so it’s mostly a moot point.

          “He an asshole?” Andy asks, eyes still on Nursey.

          “Yeah,” Dex says, turning towards the basement door so he can get to work, “you’ll like him.”

          Dex comes back up an hour later and sits in the waiting room until Nursey’s tattoo is finished. When Nursey comes back out, no new tattoos are visible and Dex doesn’t ask to see it.

          “What do I owe you?” Nursey asks, reaching into his back pocket for his wallet.

          “Nothing; Dex fixed my heater, you get a tattoo.” Andy crosses something out on her to-do list for the day, probably the water heater.

          “Charge him anyway; he’s good for it.” Andy rolls her eyes; Nursey glares but Dex doesn’t feel the heat while he’s here. This is his home turf. Sort of. “I’ll see you ‘round, then?”

          “Sure, sure. Go visit Jenny, will you? She won’t shut up about how much she misses you.”

          “She just misses my free labor.”

          “Either way.” Andy’s eyes go earnest for a moment, a flash of sincerity, and Dex nods, shrugging.

          “Alright, get off my ass.” Dex turns to leave.

          “As nice as it is, too much dick for my taste.”

          “Don’t knock it til you’ve tried it,” Dex says, sing-song. Andy snorts and Nursey’s face splits into a weird conflict of emotion. Dex turns away and smiles to himself.

 

          The first time Dex speaks Spanish at Samwell, it’s when he’s hanging out with Chowder and Farmer. Chowder and him have been working on an equation for about twenty minutes when Farmer curses in Spanish, jumping away from the table as she says, “ _Fucking shit dick, motherfucker_.”

          Dex raises his eyebrows in surprise. “ _You kiss your mother with that mouth?_ ”

          Farmer’s eyes widen as she furiously shakes her hand. She spilled coffee all over it and, Dex assumes that, it burns. “ _You speak Spanish?_ ”

          “ _A little_ ,” Dex says. Chowder looks between them, hopelessly confused. “ _We’re kind of freaking your boyfriend out_.”

          Farmer smiles. “ _Good_.”

          Dex laughs and, from then on, he and Farmer start to hang out more. It’s nice.

 

          “What’re you guys doing for the break?” Ransom asks two weeks before Thanksgiving. _American_ Thanksgiving, he would specify.

          “I can’t afford a ticket back to Georgia, so I’ll cook for y’all again if you want,” Bitty says.

          “Sweet,” Nursey says, smiling smoothly. It spreads across his lips, slow like honey, and Dex wonders if it’d taste as sweet.

          “We don’t really celebrate Thanksgiving at my house,” Chowder says, “so I’ll be here.”

          “Alright, so that’s five of us staying here, plus Jack and Lardo-” Ransom has open an Excel sheet with all of their names listed.

          “I think Shits has to go to the richy grandparents’ for Thanksgiving,” Holster interjects. Ransom hums to let him know he heard him.

          “We’re going to need a lot of food,” Ransom says, mostly to himself.

          “Dex, honey, are you going back to Maine?” Bitty asks innocently. Everyone turns to look at him, expectantly, and Dex blanks for a moment. He’s overrun with memories of sticking his fingers in the mashed potatoes, playing touch football in the backyard with the guys in his family, being so warm he could melt surrounded by ginger family members who loved him unconditionally. Though, he amends, maybe it was conditional after all. He wonders about Liam, if he’s going home for the holiday; wonders if Liam ever sees Dex’s mom around town and ducks his head. Dex doubts his mom even knew it was Liam; all she saw was her son kissing a boy and then her brain shorted out.

          “No,” Dex says, his voice scratchier than he had been anticipating. “I’ll be here.”

          No one suspects anything and Dex’s shoulders start to shake. He leaves soon after.

 

          At four in the afternoon on a Wednesday, after his history lecture, Dex walks to the payphone that’s on the corner of the street Annie’s is on. He puts in two quarters, both of them freezing from the autumn air, and he dials a number he memorized when he was four _just in case_.

          “ _Hello?_ ” a girl answers. “ _Is someone there?_ ” It’s Dex’s older sister, Maeve. She taught him how to ride a bike and how to bandage up his cuts after fights. She made him wear a crown at her tea parties and kicked him out of her room when her friends came over. The night Dex ran away- or was chased, he can never quite define that right- she gave him a big, warm hug, so proud of her baby brother for getting into his top choice. There’s a picture Dex managed to print off of Facebook- the original is lost somewhere in his room, though it’s probably been tossed by now- of Maeve holding Dex’s hand, the both of them in Halloween costumes- she was Ariel and he was a pumpkin- grinning holey smiles at the camera. Now it sits in Dex’s bedside drawer, alone and dark.

          “ _Hello? Is someone there? Hello?_ ” she asks again. Dex listens and doesn’t say anything. “ _I’m hanging up now._ ” Another beat. Quietly, “ _Will_?”

          Dex hangs up, his pulse racing, and he stares at it for a minute before walking away.

 

          Dex is drunk and he’s eating reheated mashed potatoes out of a bowl that has a Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtle head poking out from one of the sides. Next to him, Ransom is looking up which Turtle it is because he and Ransom can’t agree on whether or not it’s Donatello or Raphael. On the TV, _Love Actually_ is playing because there are no good Thanksgiving movies and Colin Firth is speaking terrible Portuguese.

From the floor, sitting on top of a sleeping Chowder, Farmer pipes up, “ _Chris is going to propose to me in Spanish_.”

          “ _He’ll be crying too hard to say anything right_ ,” Dex replies around a mouthful of mashed potatoes.

          Farmer smiles at the screen and says, “ _You better get it on video_.”

          “ _You got it_.” They share a fist bump and Dex gets back to his mashed potatoes. Ransom and Holster, who have now agreed upon Raphael, blink dumbly in Dex’s direction.

          “You speak Spanish?” Ransom asks, excited.

          “Say something in Spanish!” Holster bounces on the couch, disrupting the entire piece of furniture.

          Dex grumbles, “ _Gringos_ ,” and Farmer laughs so loud she wakes up Chowder.

 

          It’s three in the morning. Dex is on a bus, sitting next to Nursey who got the window seat this time due to a good rock-paper-scissors battle on his part. He’s writing poetry on the back of a take-out menu he swiped from the restaurant they went to last night- or earlier this night. Dex is pretending to be asleep as he watches Nursey write.

_hammers are violent objects_

_their masters are, too_

_I see their potential_

_for wreckage_

_but their masters only see_

_what is to be built_

_if we both are right_

_what is the result in the end_

          “A broken home,” Dex whispers, feeling poetic. Nursey’s eyes flit towards him and something like recognition flashes in them. It feels like getting too close to a fire and Dex knows that he’s exposed, but he stares into the flame, leaning too close. Aching to be burned.

 

          Shitty plucks Dex from the Haus hallway, drawing him away from the broken sink in the bathroom, and asks him, “Have you ever smoked?”

          Dex doesn’t know the context, but he remembers Liam’s lips as they parted around a blossom of smoke and he remembers feeling like nothing mattered and liking it, so he says, “Yeah,” and leaves it at that.

          “Huh,” Shitty says, then lights a joint.

          Lardo joins them ten minutes later. She makes it all very existential and asks something to the extent of, “Do you think there’s ever a childhood that wasn’t shitty?”

          Shitty says, “Probably not.”

          Lardo hums.

          “My childhood wasn’t shitty when I was growing up,” Dex says. “It is now.”

          He doesn’t really know what he’s saying at this point, but Shitty claps him on the shoulder anyway. It’s at this moment that he realizes Shitty isn’t wearing underwear and Dex laughs because it feels light in his chest.

 

          Christmas is inescapable, like one of those elaborate magicians’ tricks where someone is locked underwater without a key and they have to survive somehow. Dex is probably going to drown, he reasons. No one asks about his plans, thankfully, and he doesn’t offer anything. The day before his last lecture class, he’s in Nursey’s room because his own roommate is goodbye-screwing his girlfriend and Nursey has a single dorm.

          Nursey says, “New York is cold.”

          “So is here.” Dex is trying to concentrate on this final comp-sci assignment so he’ll have nothing to do over the break except wallow in his own loneliness.

          “Maine must be freezing, huh?” This grabs Dex’s attention. He hasn’t thought about Maine since he called home last month. He tries not to think about it if he can help it. The sudden mention of home is jolting and he doesn’t know how to respond for a moment. For a moment, he finds himself reaching for Spanish.

          “ _It’s a biting kind of cold_ ,” he says without thinking. “ _Scratching at your face until you crack._ It’s-it’s angry, really. _So angry_. If you go outside without a scarf or a hat you’ll freeze right where you stand.”

          Nursey smiles a little, surprised but pleased. Either he understands Spanish or doesn’t care that he doesn’t.

          “You’ll need a good hat then, right?” he asks. Dex doesn’t know how to say that he can’t go home anymore, but Nursey continues before Dex has to respond. “Here.” Nursey grabs a green beanie off of his side table and plops it on Dex’s head. It looks much like the hats the dwarves wore in Snow White.

          “Thanks,” Dex says simply, feeling warm and melty.

 

          On Christmas Eve, Dex looks up a PDF version of the Bible on his laptop. He reads the passage that they recited every Christmas Eve in his church back in Maine. He lights a candle- one that smells like a pumpkin spice latte, but Dex doesn’t think God will mind- and turns off his lights, just staring at the candle. At his church every Christmas Eve, one of the choir members, usually a teenaged girl, would sing Silent Night as they lowered the lights in the church until it was completely dark save for the candles that everyone in the pews held. It was Dex’s favorite part of Christmas Eve, favorite part of church in general, really.

          “ _Silent night_ ,” Dex sings softly, “ _holy night_ …”

          He doesn’t notice the tears on his face until he finishes the song.

 

          Two days before New Year’s Eve, Dex gets a SnapChat from Nursey. It’s a picture of a random street in New York, people who Dex doesn’t know crowding a block of stores, cafes, and apartment buildings. Nursey’s captioned it with “how’s the maine cold treating ya” without a question mark. Dex doesn’t understand why Nursey would bother to put the apostrophe in “how’s” if he wasn’t going to capitalize How’s or Maine. Then again, Dex doesn’t understand most of Nursey’s text messages.

          He takes a picture of the beanie Nursey gave him, now lying on his bed, and sends it back with, “It’s alright.”

          Nursey doesn’t respond until the next day when he sends a picture of himself, but only half of his face, with, “wow you must really like that comforter”.

          “What do you mean?” Dex says in the chat.

          “it’s the same one you have in your dorm.”

          Dex doesn’t respond for many reasons, mostly because Nursey actually put punctuation in that response and it seems meaningful in a way that worries him.

 

          “It’s good to be back,” Bitty says, standing in the Haus kitchen, completely surrounded by pastries. Holster and Ransom each have their own pie and Shitty is devouring peanut butter cookies so savagely that bits of them are stuck in his mustache. Chowder is politely sniffing at a lemon merengue pie. He grins widely when Bitty hands him the pie-cutting-knife (there are specified knifes for certain things, ever since Bitty found out that Holster had been using one of Bitty’s knives to cut away at the door to the attic, since it wouldn’t close anymore because of the temperature change).

          “If it wasn’t for the presents, it would feel like we hadn’t even left,” Ransom says, his face smeared with pie. He and Holster grin stupidly at one another and Dex looks away because they’re ridiculous and also because it feels strangely intimate, but as he looks away he meets Nursey’s eyes. Eyes that shine with suspicion and Dex feels a chill run up his spine.

 

          Shitty walks into the Haus one day and tells everyone that they are going to play shinny on the Pond. Right this second. Everyone grabs warm clothes and their skates, yelling at Jack when he suggests getting pads so they can have a real practice, and they trudge down to the Pond. They’re the only ones walking around campus because Samwell got a foot and a half of snow last night, but Shitty is in one of his senior moods, emotional about never playing shinny on the Pond again, so everyone keeps their complaints to a minimum.

          Dex skates around with the guys, easily passing the puck back and forth, laughing and feeling light on his feet. Bitty attempts to teach them all some ice skating moves and, at the end, he tells Dex that he did the best, but he asks Dex not to tell the others. Dex promises to keep it a secret and smiles all the way back to the Haus.

          At the Haus, everyone gets their own mug of cocoa and then they all sit down on the living room floor to watch _The Princess Bride_.

          “As you wish,” everyone choruses along with Westley.

          By the end of the movie, half of the guys have fallen asleep and the other half are unfortunately underneath the first half, which renders them immovable. Only Bitty escapes, going around collecting the empty mugs. Dex feels bad for not helping, but Chowder is so peaceful curled up in both his and Nursey’s laps. Nursey is asleep too, his head on Dex’s shoulder and his curly hair tickling the side of Dex face. The arm Nursey is resting on hurts from the angle and both of Dex’s legs are asleep from the knee down, but he feels warm and content, so he doesn’t move. He settles into his spot and closes his eyes.

 

          Nursey keeps giving Dex clothes. At first it goes by unnoticed; a hat here, a scarf there, maybe a random pair of gloves. Dex kept the beanie because it looked nice with his hair and the scarf keeps his face warm when he walks to class. The gloves are a sturdy pair of workman’s gloves, more of a present than anything else, and as much as Dex hates charity, the gloves are divine, so he keeps his mouth shut about them. Then Nursey leaves a sweatshirt in Dex’s dorm and, when Dex tries to give it back, he insists that it isn’t his.

          “I have one just like that sitting on my bed, I swear to God!” Nursey complains. They’re fighting about this like they fight about everything else and it’s a lot more comfortable for Dex than the weird mix of confusion and pity Nursey has recently been looking at Dex with.

          “You don’t believe in God,” Dex points out, jerking the sweatshirt at him.

          Nursey throws up his arms, turns around, and walks away. Leaving Dex with a new sweatshirt.

          As much annoyance as the garment originally causes him, Dex does find it comfortable. It’s worn around the shoulders and the arms are just a little too long, so they slip over Dex’s knuckles when he’s typing and warm his hands when he can’t wear gloves. He never wears it out of his dorm room out of fear of Nursey seeing it, or one of the guys on the team seeing it and calling him on it. It’s just a nice sweatshirt, it’s soft and comfortable, and Dex doesn’t want to analyze it too much.

 

          Dex is alone in the Haus, sick enough that Coach Murray sent him home from practice, and waiting for the guys to get back from brunch so they can continue the _Friends_ marathon they’ve all been watching- though Holster, who has the original boxed set at home, keeps complaining that Netflix is leaving out jokes. The rest of them don’t care, since every time a joke is left out, Holster tells them anyway.

          Jack suddenly walks into the Haus, his cheeks pink and his demeanor frazzled. From his nest of blankets on the couch, Dex asks, “What’s wrong?”

          Jack looks up, surprised, and says, “Uh, nothing. Just…” He glances behind him, like the problem is listening or something. “This guy asked me out on the street and he was extremely forward.”

          Dex frowns. “Like, aggressively?”

          Jack shakes his head. “No, no, not like assault or anything. It’s just, he knew who I was and was still so forward. I don’t know, it was just weird.” He comes over and sits next to Dex on the couch, pulling one of Dex’s blankets out of the pile to keep himself warm. The Haus’ heating system is shit; Dex was going to take a look at it, but then he got sick.

          “If you told him you were straight, I’m sure he would have backed off.”

          “I’m not,” Jack says distractedly, frowning at his blanket.

          “Not what?” Dex thinks he knows what just happened, but he’s not sure.

          “Not straight-” Jack seems to catch himself just as he says it, his eyes widening a little as he turns to look at Dex. Dex realizes that Jack thinks he just outed himself to the team’s token homophobic, Catholic asshole, and Dex recognizes the panic in that, as he himself was outed to a homophobic, Catholic _person_ \- he still can’t bring himself to call his father an asshole, no matter how hard he tries- but there’s something comical in the widening of Jack’s eyes. Dex’s mind is brought back to the baby pictures he’s seen of Jack on the internet, with the googly eyes looking in two different directions, and he almost wants to laugh at the image.

          “Okay,” Dex says simply. “Cool.”

          Jack seems cautiously calmed. “You’re not…?” He drifts off, like asking Dex if he is a homophobic asshole is a question to be put delicately.

          “Homophobic? Nah.” He could prove it by citing the fact that he had a dick in his mouth last week, but he doesn’t really want to tell anyone that information. He’s never said the words out loud before, _I like boys_ , or any variation thereof, and, for now, he’d like to keep it that way. Dex turns towards the television, nodding at it. “We were on the one where Rachel and Ross get married in Vegas, right?”

          “Yeah,” Jack says, a little slowly. Dex turns back to him and offers him a sickly-weak smile. Jack seems almost like he wants to laugh.

The team bursts into the Haus and fills it with noise, breaking whatever moment he and Jack were having, and soon it’s dissolved completely. Still, Jack smiles at Dex when he leaves the Haus later, big and bright, and Dex’s chest aches with something akin to jealousy.

 

          He’s at his grandma’s house, playing on the living room floor with the wooden train toy he used to love when he was little. He’s rolling the toy back and forth across the rug, the little red wheels spinning and spinning.

          Then he’s disoriented and his head is spinning and spinning and there’s red there, still, but it’s deeper and liquid and it drips across Dex’s face like sweat after a hard day’s work. Knuckles hit him across the jaw, a feeling he’s all too familiar with since he starts fights like they’re new episodes on Netflix. Except it doesn’t make sense because he was just playing with the train and now everything hurts and there’s yelling in his ear- no, wait, it’s _singing_ in his ear. _Bye, bye Miss American Pie, drove my Chevy to the levee but the levee was dry_ …

          Dex wakes up panting, sweat covering every inch of his skin. He looks across the room to see his roommate slapping at his alarm. His alarm is singing _them good ole boys were drinking whiskey and rye_ …

          Dex’s roommate groans as he finally manages to turn off the song and he rolls over in his bed, pulling the blanket up higher on his shoulder. Dex looks forwards again, breathing starting to mellow.

          _Singin’ this’ll be the day that I die, this’ll be the day that I die…_

 

          There’s a tap on Dex’s shoulder as he sits in the library, headphones in his ears and the music loud enough to drown out the anxiety of the girl at the table next to his who has been tapping for forty five minutes. Dex takes out one earbud and turns to see Nursey grinning down at him.

          “Dude your music is, like, super loud.”

          Usually Dex would blush at doing such a thing, but he’s not in the mood today. “Sorry,” he says simply, and turns it down. Nursey apparently takes this as an invitation, since he plops down in the seat across from Dex’s at the table. He immediately uses one of the remaining chairs as a footrest and Dex wrinkles his nose. No respect for public property or whoever has to clean that chair later.

          “What’s with the jam sesh?” Nursey asks, pulling out a lone notebook. It’s a spiral one with lined paper; it seems fitting, as Dex definitely thinks that Nursey needs structure in his life. The book is covered in doodles and scribbles and as Nursey flips to a clean page Dex can see that the pages are filled with his prep-school cursive.

          “Trying to fix something,” he says, “and write an English paper.”

          “Ooh, English. Can I read it after?” Nursey obviously says this in an attempt to rile Dex up.

          So Dex says, “Sure,” in an attempt to be contradictory. Nursey still grins like he’s won something, so Dex puts back in his earbud to resume his focus. He tries not to flinch as the chorus of American Pie is crooned in his ear. He still can’t get it to sound like the song; somehow Don Mclean keeps yelling _Never come back, faggot!_ instead. He’s always had a need to fix anything that broke, and this need is more pressing than most; Dex’s roommate’s alarm is a daily occurrence and Dex needs as much sleep as he can get.

 

          Dex is almost fully asleep in his physics textbook, set up in the Haus kitchen with his books, when Bitty says, “Honey, you seem a little stressed lately. Is everything okay?”

          “My roommate,” Dex says, trying to unstick his lips from that sleep-shit that fuses them together.

          “What about your roommate?” Bitty asks, putting away a freshly cleaned bowl.

          “He’s got this alarm-” Dex stops, realizing that he’ll have to explain the whole story for this to make sense and that he can’t do that, _he can’t_ , because then they’ll know and the hands will get him, they’ll hit him, _the team_ will hit him because no love is unconditional, _not about this_ , his dad loved him once and look at what happened there-

          Dex doesn’t realize that he’s worked himself into a panic attack until he’s breathing along with Shitty as Bitty stands in the background, fretting like a worried mother. It’s Bitty’s worry, comforting like a blanket, and Shitty’s breathing, steady like the hands on a clock, that eventually get Dex back to his previous state of sleep-deprived anxiety.

          “Dex, brah, what is going on? If you tell us, we can help you.”

          This is how Dex ends up on the kitchen floor, choking on sobs as he explains, bit by painful bit, why Don Mclean’s most famous song sends him into fits every time he hears it. Bitty leaves the room at some point- and wow, Dex drove him away from his own kitchen, he feels like an asshole- probably because it hits too close to home, and Dex can get that. Shitty stays, though, listening to every detail. It gets a little too detailed when Dex gets into the hits from his dad, the marks they left for weeks afterward, the marks they left that are apparently still here.

          After Dex explains everything, Shitty softly explains what triggers are and everything starts to make sense a little bit.

          “So blaring the song over and over again won’t help?” Dex asks afterwards, feeling sheepish.

          “Shit, brah, is that what you’ve been doing?” Shitty gapes down at him, horrified, and Dex blushes, embarrassed. “No, making yourself relive the trauma until you have a panic attack is _not_ the way to go. What you need to do is talk to your roommate.”

          As daunting as it is, Dex does it. He vaguely explains that the song is a trigger for him without going into too much detail. His roommate, who Dex had always assumed was a lot of an asshole, takes it all in stride.

          “Sure, man,” the roommate says. “You don’t have a problem with Cherry Pie, do you?”

          Dex smiles and shakes his head. The tune that’s been stuck in his mind for three weeks drifts away as Warrant yells, _She’s my Cherry Pie! Cool drink of water such a sweet surprise…_

 

          “ _I need to speak Spanish_ ,” Farmer says, walking into the Haus one day with Chowder trailing behind her.

          “ _Okay_ ,” Dex says back. She and Dex talk about their days, their assignments, what’s going on with their respective teams. Chowder hangs out with Bitty, Ransom, and Holster in the kitchen. Jack stays in the living room with Dex and Farmer, half-listening and quarter-understanding, as French is somewhat similar to Spanish, but not nearly enough to comprehend everything.

          Nursey walks in as Dex is talking about this party he’s going to tomorrow at the tennis sorority and he plops down next to Dex and pulls out the same notebook from a couple weeks ago.

          “ _You should speak Spanish to the tennis girls,_ ” Farmer says. “ _They’ll think it’s hot._ ” Dex scrunches up his nose, skeptical.

          “ _It’s true_ ,” Nursey suddenly pipes up. “ _Girls love it. And, if you’ve got a good accent, you can do great things with your tongue_.” Nursey wiggles his eyebrows meaningfully and Farmer nods knowingly. Dex shakes his head, allowing himself to laugh, and smiles at the two of them.

          The next day, he goes to the party, but he ends up going home alone. All he could think about the entire time was what Nursey could do with his tongue.

 

          They’re both drunk, Nursey a little more so since he’s a lightweight but refuses to admit it, and they’ve finally managed to make it back to their shared room for the night. After the game, they had tagged along with Shitty and some of the other guys on the team to go to a party at one of the opposing teammates’ houses. It was a nice party, with loud music and okay beer, and Dex had a good time. He kissed a pretty girl and then went home leaning against Nursey as they both attempted to not collapse in the elevator, and Dex knows which of those two things were his favorite and, right now, since he’s drunk and sated, he’s okay with that knowledge.

          The lights are out in the room, nothing but the red, blinking light from the bedside clock that all hotel rooms have. Dex is sort-of asleep but he’s still buzzing a little from the game and the booze. He feels like, if he goes to sleep now, he’s going to miss something really important. So, as tired as he is, he keeps himself awake, waiting patiently for something to happen.

          It happens in the form of Nursey saying, “Where’d you learn Spanish?”

          “Remember where I took you to get that tattoo?” Dex asks. Nursey hums back an affirmative. “There.”

          “At the tattoo place?”

          “No.” Dex turns in bed to face Nursey’s bed. By the silhouette he sees of Nursey, Dex assumes that Nursey is turned towards him as well. “There was a garage a few blocks away. I worked there and the guys taught me Spanish so they didn’t have to speak English.”

          “Oh.” He doesn’t ask Dex why he was working at a garage in Massachusetts instead of a lobster boat in Maine, which Dex is thankful for.

          “How’d you learn Spanish?” he asks instead.

          “My mama, she’s from Chile. She was home more than my mom so we would end up just speaking Spanish most of the time. It was cool cause if we spoke it in front of my mom she would get grumpy at us, but it was nice to be able to have that with my mama. Like our own secret.”

          Dex remembers the secret he used to have, only his and Liam’s. They would meet after hockey practice to do homework and end up making out on one of their beds until their parents called them for dinner. They were each other’s first times with a boy, going all the way with fumbling fingers and wavering nerves, giggling into each other’s mouths when something went wrong. They couldn’t risk doing it at their houses, so they went to the beach. Sand got everywhere and it was a bitch to clean up, but it was a nice memory.

          “S’that why you like Pablo Neruda so much?” Dex asks to keep himself from drowning in memories.

          Nursey laughs. “Yeah, Mama was always a big fan. You ever read him?”

          Dex shakes his head before he remembers the darkness. “No, I’m not a poetry person. My sister, Maeve, she loved him, though. She’d spend all of her time finding whatever she could get her hands on. I got her an old copy of _Crepusculario_ for her birthday one year and she cried. When my dad found out Neruda was a communist, though, he pitched a fit, so she hid all of her books under her bed.” Maeve was a rebel, too, Dex remembers. Except her rebellion wasn’t too loud or radical; hers was acceptable.

          “You never talk about your family,” Nursey says, not accusatory exactly. Kind of curious, maybe a little concerned. Dex doesn’t really know what to make of it.

          “What do you want to know?” he asks.

          “Tell me about them. All of them.”

          “Well, I have more cousins than there are players in the NHL and most of their names are so Irish or German that I can’t pronounce them, let alone remember them. My immediate family is mostly just Uncle Joe, Aunt Cassidy, and Uncle Paul. They’ve all got about fifteen kids between them, give or take a few. I have three siblings; my older brother, Junior, Maeve’s older, and then Kitty, who’s eleven now. Junior’s real name is George, after my dad, but everyone calls him Junior; he’s basically my dad just twenty five years younger. Maeve’s reserved but passionate; I don’t know how that works out, but it does. Kitty is perfect, absolutely perfect. She reads and writes better than anyone in her class, loves numbers and math, doesn’t judge a single person for anything. Her heart is the biggest I’ve ever seen.”

          Dex stops, suddenly, wondering if Kitty thinks about him anymore. He was the one to get her first tooth from under her pillow and replace it with a quarter; he was the one to get her ready for school in the morning. Dex would take her with him to the hardware store, where he worked part time, and she’d sit on the counter and greet everybody with a big smile. She upped his tips big time, not to mention that she also made work so much easier. Dex has a picture of her in his wallet, taken at her tenth birthday party. She probably looks completely different now; he wouldn’t know, since his family blocked him on Facebook so he can’t even see pictures.

          “She sounds great,” Nursey says.

          “She is.” Dex chokes on the roughness in his throat and Nursey doesn’t say anything.

 

          Dex pulls out a pie from Betsy, one he made all by himself. He hasn’t baked in years, since his dad starting calling him a pansy every time he volunteered to help his mom in the kitchen once he turned thirteen. Bitty is standing next to him, grinning with pride, and Dex lets the feeling wash over him like a warm blanket.

          “Wow, it looks really good, sweetheart,” Bitty says around a smile. He’s stopped looking at Dex with pity now, though it took a month or so. Dex still wants to tell him that what happened to him doesn’t happen to everybody because he’s met Mrs. Bittle and he can tell that she knows and loves Bitty anyway. But Dex doesn’t say it, out of fear maybe, or an unwillingness to revisit the subject. Chowder and Nursey walk in, following their noses. Chowder grins brightly when he sees Dex standing with the pie.

          “It smells really good, Dex! Did you make it yourself?” he asks, walking over to take a peak.

          “Yeah,” Dex says, flushing happily.

          “Y’all can eat it in ten minutes, when it’s cooler,” Bitty tells them.

          “Sweet,” Nursey says and plops down at the counter. “What’re you guys doing for Spring Break?” he asks.

          “I’m going back to Cali with Farmer,” Chowder says, taking a seat next to Nursey.

          “I’ve managed to get tickets back to Georgia, actually,” Bitty says, a pleased expression on his face.

          “You going back to Maine, Dexter?” Nursey’s eyes drift to Dex, as do Bitty’s, though Bitty’s contain a good amount of panic in them.

          “No,” Dex says, putting down his pie. He smiles at it, refusing to let anything bring down his pie euphoria.

          “Cool, we can chill here together. Holster and Ransom are going to Holster’s parents’ and Jack’s going back to Montreal. I’m pretty sure that Shitty is taking Lardo to South America or something, so it’ll just be you and me.”

          At this, Dex smiles wider, feeling invincible and loved.

 

          There’s a knock on the Haus door, which is weird ‘cause no one ever knocks, but also weirder because the only two members of the SMH team still at Samwell are him and Nursey, who are currently in the Haus. Dex gets up after Nursey nudges him, apparently unwilling to get up from their blanket nest. He pads over to the door, wearing a sweatshirt he borrowed from Shitty which was originally Jack’s and the one pair of long pajama pants he managed to grab before he left home in Maine.

          He pulls open the door, fully expecting it to be one of the guys coming back early from a trip, and is stunned to find Liam standing on the other side. Dex blinks, dumbfounded.

          “Will, hey.” Liam sighs into his smile, looking nervous but hopeful and a bunch of other things that freak Dex out. Why is Liam here? Liam isn’t supposed to be _here_. Liam’s smile falters as Dex doesn’t respond. “I, uh, I went to the main office to find out where your dorm was, but when I got there your roommate said you hadn’t been back since the start of break, so he told me to come here, to the hockey frat I guess, so I came here and here you are and you still haven’t said anything and I’m rambling and Dear Lord, Will, please stop me-”

          It ends up being Nursey who stops Liam, coming up behind Dex, whining about him letting all the cold air out. He stops mid-whine when he sees Liam, whose eyes have now widened significantly. “Who’re you, brah?” Nursey asks, a little threatening with his posture. He must sense that Dex is uncomfortable by the way he’s standing or by how hard he’s gripping the door or maybe by their d-man connection thing that neither of them will ever admit they have.

          “Uh, hi, I’m Liam. A friend of Will’s from-from Maine.” Liam’s gaze flickers back to Dex as apprehension fills his features. “I-I can go, if you want me to.”

          This, for some reason, snaps Dex back into functioning. “Shit, no, come inside, it’s freezing, sorry.” Dex turns mechanically, bodily pushing Nursey back into the Haus and leading Liam to the kitchen. Nursey seems to understand that this isn’t something he’s a part of, so he goes back to their nest in the living room. Dex stands in the kitchen, leaning against the counter with his arms crossed over his chest as he scrutinizes Liam, who’s confused and plopped right in the middle of the room. This isn’t far to him, Dex knows, but he’s too overwhelmed to think about it right now.

          “I guess you’re wondering why I’m here,” Liam says, scratching at the back of his neck. “I, uh, I haven’t stopped thinking about what happened, how it went down, and, God, I’m sorry, Will. I’m so sorry.” Liam’s eyes are sincere, but they’re earnest with sympathy that Dex reads as pity.

          Dex isn’t one for the long sorry conversation so he says, “Why’re you sorry? You still have a family.”

          Liam flinches. “That’s not fair.”

          “It’s completely fair. You have nothing to be sorry about, no reason to be here.” _You don’t belong here_ , Dex wants to say. This is ruining the separation he had; old family in Maine, new family in Samwell. They aren’t supposed to mix; if they mix, bad things will happen.

          “You can’t just pretend nothing happened,” Liam says, eyes pleading now. He has such expressive eyes, one of the things Dex had loved about him back when his idea of love was naïve and weak.

          “Doesn’t mean I can’t try.”

          Liam looks almost like he wants to cry. “I’m sorry you feel that way.” Dex shrugs, hoping to get through this without crying. A part of him, the same part that dreams of being back in Maine with a family who loves him, wants to reach out and twist his fingers in Liam’s shirt. Use it like a security blanket, wrap himself in the comfort of familiar. But Liam is stained, as terrible a thought as that is, ruined by the memories of that night. Dex can’t look at him without reliving it.

          They stand staring at each other for a long time. Eventually, Dex croaks out, “How are they?”

          Liam’s eyes soften. “Your cousin Johnny is captain of the team, now, handles it just like you did. Determined and serious as all hell. Maeve is doing some kind of writing thing, a competition or something, the whole town’s talking about it. If she wins, she might get a publishing contract or something.” Liam pauses, recognizing something in Dex’s expression and shaking his head. “I saw Kitty the other day, actually, at the park. She recognized me and ran right up to me, asking me where you were.”

          Dex’s heart breaks a little and he knows he’s not holding back the tears well enough.

          “Oh.” Liam turns, looking through his bag. He pulls out flat-ish box and offers it to Dex. “Your parents had a garage sale a few weeks ago. I managed to nab some of your stuff.” Dex stares at it like one would look at a bomb.

          Dex eventually takes the box just to get Liam to stop holding it at him. He tries not to get his hopes up imagining what’s in it; maybe an old watch or some clothes. They wouldn’t have kept his awards, his personal things; anything that reminded them of their lost son was probably tossed within the week.

          He isn’t exactly sure how it happens, but the next thing he knows, Liam is walking out and Dex is dropping onto the couch, drained of every resource in his body. Nursey throws an arm around his shoulder and tugs him closer. Dex lets himself be cuddled and falls asleep without dreaming.

 

          The team has a quiet night in, which means that they all sit on the living room floor playing drinking games. Someone pulls a deck of cards out of seemingly nowhere and suddenly they’re playing Kings. It goes by quickly, which, when paired with alcohol, makes Dex’s head spin, but he’s warm where he’s pressed between Lardo and Ransom, so he smiles as it becomes his turn.

          He picks the eight of clubs, which means he gets to pick someone to drink with, except Holster fucked with the rules so Dex has to pour a drink into someone’s mouth and vice-versa. He picks Bitty, just ‘cause, and they dump shots of expensive whiskey into each other’s mouths. The whiskey was provided by Shitty, who stole it from his dad during his last visit.

          Next is Ransom, who pulls a ten, categories, and grins. “Great asses of the world.” They go around the circle, in order, hearing things like Sid Crosby, Chris Evans, J-Lo, Beyoncé, Jack Zimmermann. It comes to Dex and his alcohol addled mind can only think Channing Tatum, so he says it and blushes so red he might just combust.

          Shitty pulls a king, which he crows happily about for a minute, before implementing a rule where, after every turn, the person has to take off an item of clothing. There’s only one more king left in the deck, so the chances of this rule being repealed before someone is down to their boxers aren’t very good.

          By the time Jack comes down the stairs, ready to tell them all to go to bed, no one is fully dressed. Bitty has taken off both socks; Lardo has removed her bra from under her top and one sock; Holster and Ransom are both down to their boxers because of a messy set of rules Dex is pretty sure they made up just to get naked; Shitty didn’t start out with much to begin with, so he’s got one of Jack’s shirts and that’s it, but it hangs low on him so Dex can only see _something_ every other glance; Chowder is shirtless and giggling, drunker than anyone, and Bitty, next to him, keeps having to make Chowder keep his pants on since it isn’t his turn yet; Dex has taken off two shoes and a sock and he’s about to lose the other one; Nursey is the most distracting, though, shirtless and sockless.

          His tattoo, the one on his arm, is stark against his skin, moving whenever Nursey does. His bare toes wiggle happily, also drunk, it seems, and they mirror the glee in Nursey’s expression. Dex finds himself wanting to touch, but not in the way he’s always wanted to touch. Instead of biting, Dex finds himself wanting to bury his face in Nursey’s neck. He doesn’t want to feel Nursey’s hands on his skin so much as he wants to feel them in his own, curled together as they walk somewhere or just cuddle. The idea of tugging on Nursey’s hair as they do sinful, delectable things to one another isn’t as enticing as the idea of softly running his fingers through it as they lie together, quiet and peaceful.

          Huh, Dex thinks to himself.

 

          Dex realizes that he’s in love like a rainstorm breaking out on the warmest day in fall. When he realizes it, he instantly remembers a day he and his ma drove to the Home Depot that was forty five minutes out of town because she needed a tool that their local hardware store didn’t have. They went into the store when the sky was bright and sunny, a day weirdly warm enough for shorts and summer dresses even though Halloween was a few days away. They left the store in a downpour, rain falling so hard it was like it was trying to punch the earth.

          It smelled like summer again for a moment, like the brightness of freedom and tangy sunscreen smeared across faces with love as they ran out the door. Will had found himself wanting to go swimming as his mom drove him home. It got so bad that Will’s mom said they weren’t going to drive anymore until it stopped, so they pulled over on the side of a road and waited. Will asked his mom if he could walk around outside, even though he knew he would get dirty and maybe catch a cold, both of which his family couldn’t afford, literally.

          Maybe his mom had seen the hope in his eyes, the desperation for one last moment of summer before fall, because she sighed, put upon, and told him yes. Now, when Dex thinks back on this moment, he stupidly wonders if she let him out of the car because she knew he’d need this moment one day to compare to. He doubts that when he remembers how her tears felt like that rain, falling so hard it felt like it was trying to punch _him_ , but it’s still a nice thought, for a second.

          It happens just like that, though. Quick and unexpected; one second, Dex is void of feelings, or maybe just ignorant of them, and the next he’s consumed with love. It smells like summer, freedom and possibility, and it hits him like a punch to the gut. Once again he finds himself wanting to go swimming, but he’s afraid to ask because he knows he can’t afford the love he’s asking for. Everything is conditional, love most of all, and Dex is tired of being a condition.

          So when Nursey turns to him at Team Breakfast, offering him half of his strawberries for three slices of Dex’s bacon, Dex takes a long second for the downpour to wash over him before nodding and popping a strawberry in his mouth. It’s sweet but bitter- _bittersweet_ , his mind supplies- but, in the end, it still tastes good. There’s a metaphor in that, he assumes.

 

          The first Tuesday in February finds Dex in front of the payphone down the street from Annie’s again. He’s got two cold quarters in his hand, poised to push them into the slot. He hesitates, remembering Maeve’s questioning _Will?_ and wondering if this is worth it. He’s also wondering if she knows, if Mom explained what she saw. He knows that she told Dad, his reaction afterwards showing that easily, but he knows they wouldn’t broadcast it more than they had to.

          Will probably isn’t known as more than “the disgraced son” to his extended family members. What would his parents even say? Our son kissed a boy? No, they’d say, “He went against God” or “he broke our rules”. Anything to make it seem like something that terrible didn’t come from them. Some of his family probably assumed, realized that Dex was _that_ and hated him appropriately. It’s probably the shame of the family, now that he thinks about it. What would calling accomplish, really?

          Still, he does it, feeling dumb and naïve, so childish it hurts. He grips the plastic phone until his fingers turn white. It rings and rings, the sound bouncing around in Dex’s head until it’s the only thing he hears.

          “ _You’ve reached the Poindexters_ ,” Dex’s mom’s voice says cheerily. “ _We can’t come to the phone right now, but please feel free to leave a message and we’ll get back to you as soon as we possibly can_.”

          The last time Dex heard his mom’s voice, she was crying out, “Why, why,” like a prayer.

          “Dex?”

          Dex hangs up the phone, spinning around to see Bitty, Ransom, and Holster standing there, staring curiously at him.

          “Your cell phone stop working, sweetie?” Bitty asks, smile wide and encouraging.

          “No,” Dex says stupidly, not taking the out.

          “Who were you calling on a payphone?” Holster asks.

          “An old friend,” Dex says, glancing at the phone. “Wasn’t home.”

          “An old _hook-up_ friend?” Ransom says, grinning cheekily. He throws an arm around Dex’s shoulders, steering him towards Annie’s. “Don’t worry, bro, we got your back.”

          Next to him, Holster pulls out his phone and starts scrolling, saying, “Yeah, dude, we’ve got a rolodex filled with potential partners. Got any preference, blonde, brunette, _red head_?” His grin matches Ransom’s and Dex lets himself laugh, shaking his head at them and also to rid himself of the memories.

 

          The end of term comes swift and unexpected. It’s filled with the beginnings of spring, warm weather and good company. Hard work too, but Dex hardly notices it with everything that’s going on. They lose the playoffs; they all take it hard, but they’re still a _team_ , so they survive, together. Dex falls even more in love with Nursey, if it’s possible, and he finds himself wanting to do all kinds of sappy shit just to make Nursey smile. The seniors are leaving, and Dex knows he’s going to miss Jack and Shitty so much it’ll be painful, but he’ll still see them afterwards, which is new, seeing people after an ending.

          On the last day before summer officially starts, Dex, Nursey, and Chowder are sitting in the Reading Room, letting the sun hit them and warm them until they’re sluggish and content.

          “We should visit each other over the summer,” Chowder says, smiling widely with his eyes closed.

          “Hmm, yeah,” Nursey agrees.

          “Can’t afford a ticket to Cali,” Dex says, unembarrassed. He’s a broke ass college student; both Chowder and Nursey know that. Nothing more to it, really.

          “I’ll come out here,” Chowder says, still smiling. “We could meet up in Maine, if you want.”

          “I’d love to see Maine in the summer. Lots to write about, I’d bet.” Nursey seems so pleased that, stupidly, Dex wishes he could go to Maine again just to see how Nursey sees it.

          “I won’t be in Maine,” Dex says without thinking. He has to stick with it, though, so he continues with, “I got a job a couple towns over; I’ll be there.”

          “So you can come down to NYC? We can have a frog weekend.” Nursey grins slowly, pleased, and Dex relaxes, somewhat, allowing himself to simply be happy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you liked it! This chapter does a lot of the developing and more of the response Dex has to his situation, as in the first chapter, he was kind of numb and shocked.  
> The next chapter should be up very soon, as all I have to do is edit it, so if you like it so far, keep your eye out for the next one.  
> Comments and kudos are always appreciated, so feel free to leave both :)


	3. kinds of love

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He shows up on Jenny’s doorstep after not talking to her since last October.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello! This chapter is very short, I'm afraid, and mostly just filler with hints of plot development. But whatever, you learn more about the OCs you probably don't care about and I have fun playing with symbolism, so we all win!  
> Once again, italicized words within the quotes are spoken in Spanish.  
> Warnings in this chapter for mentions of character death (OC who you never meet) and mentions of homophobia.  
> Enjoy!

          He shows up on Jenny’s doorstep after not talking to her since last October. It’s a week after he left the dorms- he’s been living in his truck ever since- and he stinks. All he’s got to his name are the three boxes and one suitcase he’s got in his truck. He’s willing to work, he’s got a little money saved, but other than that, he’s got nothing going for him.

          Jenny opens the door and shakes her head, jostling him a bit as she pulls him into a hug. Then she smacks the back of his head, not too hard, and mutters, “Idiot,” under her breath. But she’s smiling, so Dex smiles, too.

 

         When Dex drops his bag down on the bed he slept in during the worst months of his life, he feels almost like a new person. The heaviness of before is gone, as is the deep sorrow and grief. Now, he’s okay. Tentatively okay.

 

          Nursey calls him the week after Dex gets back, pretty late at night. He’s in the bar, making and serving drinks, but he answers it because it’s not like Jenny is going to fire him for slacking off. She is getting free labor, after all.

          “Lo?” he says simply, pouring whiskey with one hand. He’s always liked whiskey; made him feel warm instead of just buzzed.

          “Dex!” Nursey croons. “Dexy, Dexy, Dexy, _Dex_. How’re you?”

          Dex frowns. “Nurse, are you drunk?”

          “Yup.” Nursey pops the P. “My truly horrible friends from prep school took me out to drink. They are really bad Dex, so bad. Nothing like you.”

          “Are you alone?”

          There’s a pause. “Yeah, I think so. See? So bad, so very bad…”

          As Nursey begins to rhyme “bad” with anything he possibly can, Dex asks Jenny to borrow her phone. He tells Nursey that he’s hanging up but he’ll call again in three seconds, from a different phone. Nursey complains, but eventually allows it.

          “Hello?” Nursey answers the phone.

          “I’m ordering you an Uber,” Dex says.

          “Dexy!” Then he proceeds to rhyme Dexy with whatever he can, which is extremely limited to basically sexy and nothing else. Dex somehow manages to get Nursey’s location, orders the Uber on his own phone with his own money, and tells Nursey as much. “Don’t go,” Nursey says, “please don’t go.”

          Maybe Dex is feeling sappy, or he’s missed Nursey too much for just having been apart for a week, but for some reason, he agrees. Jenny lets him take a break and he sits in his apartment, listening to Nursey make up poems about what he sees on the street until the car comes.

          When he gets back downstairs, Jenny gives him a smirk. “Who was that? She pretty?”

          “ _He’s_ gorgeous and he’s also just a friend.” Dex pours her a shot and hopes she’ll let it go.

          She picks up the shot, swirling it precariously in the glass, and downs it. “You’ve got a new family, yeah?”

          Dex blinks, shocked at the question. She takes his surprise for a “yes”.

          “So you’ve got one kind of love now.” She puts the shot down and grins, her red, red lips spreading wide across her face, almost like a smear of blood. It’s feral, in a way. “One out of two ain’t bad.”

 

          There aren’t just two kinds of love, Dex thinks to himself that night, when he’s in bed just staring at the ceiling.

          There’s the love he feels for the team, a mixture of gratitude and attachment so strong he doubts there’s a force stronger than it.

          There’s the love he has for Nursey, all-consuming and burning, passionate but gentle and maybe everything in between.

          There’s the love he has for Liam, half-nostalgic and half the lingering feeling of firsts. Now it’s tainted with the bitterness of that night, of Liam being there, of everything he did but couldn’t have stopped. Dex doesn’t blame him, but it’s like how he can’t listen to American Pie anymore; Liam brings it all back.

          There’s the way he loves Kitty, unconditional and untarnished, pristine and kept clean in the forefront of his mind, all the time, every day.

          And then there’s the way he loves his parents, like broken glass on the floor. Unavoidable, painful to touch, and so damn hard to get rid of.

          He wonders if his parents remember how they loved him once, too. He wonders if they still do, but doesn’t entertain the thought longer than it takes to have it. Hoping for things he’ll never have is useless. Hope is for idiots; Poindexters don’t hope for anything more than they have. They have menial jobs, just barely enough, and rules to live by that they never, ever break. Dex hopes for more than that, more than what he was given, going against everything a Poindexter is supposed to be. Then again, he isn’t really a Poindexter anymore, is he?

          He wonders if he ever was.

 

          He walks into Andy’s shop a week later and asks for a pair of hockey skates on his ankle. Afterwards, he’s got a pair of boots on one and a pair of skates on the other and he feels balanced, somehow.

 

          A pretty girl at the bar asks Dex to come home with her and all he can think of is green eyes, matching the color of the beanie he has in his bag. He tells her no and the rest of the night he dreams about words that don’t, won’t ever be, good enough to describe the color green.

 

          Dex walks into the garage one day to find José freaking out as the rest of the guys look on, smiling a little at his misery.

          “ _What’s wrong with him?_ ” Dex asks as he puts his stuff in his locker.

          “ _He’s got a date tonight_ ,” Ernesto says. “ _He’s a little stressed_.”

          “ _Shut the fuck up_ ,” José spits, pulling at his hair. “ _This girl is amazing. I am so below her it isn’t even funny and I’m going to fuck it up so badly I will die. I’m going to die_.”

          The guys laugh, shaking their heads, and walk away to start working. Most of them are already married, so they don’t understand José’s struggle, really. Dex pulls on his jumpsuit, glancing down at José, and takes pity on him.

          “ _If you fuck up so badly that you die, at least you won’t have to deal with the aftermath._ ” José does not find this funny and glares up at Dex. Dex sighs. “ _Love is love, man; if it’s meant to be, it’ll happen._ ”

          José looks at him curiously. “ _I never thought you’d be one to believe in fate_ ,” he says.

          Dex smiles wryly. “ _Then love knew it was called love. And when I lifted my eyes to your name, suddenly your heart showed me my way._ ”

          José laughs shortly. “ _Sap_.”

          Dex shrugs. He’s okay with that.

 

          Being back reminds him of how he felt the last time he was here. It makes him crave family more than ever, so he texts the team daily. He Skypes with Chowder and Bitty every once in a while and stays active in the group chat. He also calls Shitty sometimes and whenever Holster or Ransom call, Dex always answers the phone. Nursey sends him snapchats daily; they have a streak and, as dumb as it is, Dex always makes sure to respond. He likes seeing Nursey under the category _Best Friends_.

          He gets them throughout his day, little things mostly. Pictures of New York scenery, half of Nursey’s face, a short snapshot of Nursey’s life. It makes Dex feel connected, somehow. Like someone wants him, even when he isn’t around. It’s nice to feel wanted.

 

          Dex gets home from the garage one day to find Jenny doing a line of shots of straight vodka. She doesn’t say anything, just gestures at him questioningly, so he nods. He takes a seat at the bar and downs his shot as Jenny takes her third. He doesn’t ask, as he wouldn’t want anyone to ask him why he’s drinking, but Jenny must need to vent because she begins to speak without prompting.

          “I was engaged when I was younger,” she says. “A sweet man, treated me like- well, like more than I was. He was a police officer, a good one. He cared about people, not just solving the crimes, which made a difference, I think.” She stares into the bottom of a now empty shot glass. “He died. Shot.” She looks up. “His mom dropped by today, just asking how I was doing. It just brings it all back, you know?”

          Dex can’t help but hear singing and he nods, pouring another shot for himself and then putting the vodka away. He and Jenny watch a rerun of a show on Dex’s couch together, both of them sad and tipsy. Just being sad and tipsy for a while.

 

          On July 4th, Dex is off from the garage, so he’s sitting in the bar with Jenny and some of her friends, playing Bullshit and drinking margaritas because Jenny was craving them. It’s extremely pleasing to watch a butch biker with a piercing in his eyebrow drink out of a glass with a frilly pink umbrella in it.

          There’s a knock on the locked door of the bar and everyone looks up. Dex blinks, dumbfounded, when he sees Nursey standing there.

          “Friend of yours?” Jenny asks. Dex is too shocked to hear the smirk in her voice. He gets up and walks over, unlocking the door and pulling it open.

          “What’re you doing here?” he asks. Nursey fidgets, looking awkward.

          “Thought I’d drop by, say hello. I can leave, if you want.”

          For half a second, Dex debates it, but he shakes his head. “No, no, it’s fine. Uh, hold on.” He turns back into the bar, painfully aware of all the eyes on him. He glances over the room, all the big men with their hard glares and cruel fists. They soften themselves around Jenny, like they’re guard dogs whose only purpose is to keep her happy. Dex has seen them all at their softest and their hardest and he wonders which of the two would come out if they knew how he felt about Nursey. “Jenny, you mind if I head out for a while?”

          Jenny grins like a wolf. “Take all the time you need.”

          Dex only enters the bar again to grab his wallet and keys- his phone’s already in his pocket- before rushing back out. He determinedly ignores the looks Jenny is giving him and avoids the bikers’ stares all together.

          “Let’s go,” Dex mumbles, hurrying past Nursey. They walk in silence for a while, steps falling in time with one another.

          “How’s your summer, so far?” Nursey asks.

          “Busy.” Busy’s good; busy keeps Dex’s mind off of other, more difficult things. “Yours?”

          “Boring.” Dex is somewhat aware that Nursey’s moms work a lot, so they aren’t home to hang out with him. Though Dex is sure that there are plenty of things to do in the city, so Nursey must be minimizing to some point.

          “Wanna catch the fireworks in the park later?” Nursey nods, so at least that’s one thing to do.

          They end up going to the park early, camping out on the ground in front of the soon-to-be fireworks display. They talk about more than just their summers, how they’re feeling and what they’re planning to do next year. They entertain topics and let them go with frequency, discussing nothing of importance but the discussing itself _feels_ important somehow. They banter, not bicker, and they smile, not smirk. It’s comfortable and easy, to just sit and talk with Nursey for a few hours.

          It’s unexpected, but sw’awesome. And, Dex discovers, the fireworks are just as pretty reflected off of Nursey’s eyes as they were in Maine, reflected off the bay.

          Nursey stays over Dex’s apartment and the next morning, Dex makes French toast.

 

          Nursey ends up staying for the rest of the summer, somehow. Dex isn’t sure how it happens, but one night turns into three, turns into a week, turns into July, and then Nursey is just going back to New York to get the rest of his stuff for the drive to Samwell, which is dumb if he’s just gonna come back to Dex, so Dex says he’ll go with him.

          The summer is spent with Dex at work at the garage, Nursey home in the apartment, writing and hanging out with Jenny. Then Dex gets home, works at the bar, and makes sure that Nursey doesn’t get too drunk before the both of them head upstairs and crash, one of them on the bed and another on the air mattress, though they always fight over who got which.

          Nursey meets Jenny, the guys down at the garage, Andy, and a couple of the bikers that had taken a liking to Dex over the past two summers. Nursey doesn’t question the strangeness of Dex’s pseudo-family, doesn’t ask questions about Maine or why Dex isn’t there. He’s just accepting Dex, whatever he is. It’s so painfully refreshing that Dex finds himself hugging Nursey one night after playing cards in the bar all night, so thankful he could cry. Nursey doesn’t know, can’t know, how much it means, but he hugs back just as tight.

          As they drive to NYC in Dex’s shitty truck, he glances over at Nursey every once in a while, as much as driving will let him, and smiles, wide and goofy. Yes, he’s in unrequited love with his best friend, but God is he lucky to have Nursey.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you enjoyed it! As I said, I know this one was short, but it's got a few hidden plot developments and Nursey being a huge nerd and showing up unannounced.  
> The line Dex uses when he's talking to Jose, the "Then love knew it was called love," thing, is from Pablo Neruda. Did Dex learn this from when Maeve was obsessed? Did he randomly find it on the internet and remember it? Did he spend late, sleepless nights looking at poetry in an attempt to understand Nursey further? We may never know.  
> Comments and kudos are always appreciated and if you liked it so far, keep your eye out for the next chapter, which should be up in a couple days. :)


	4. the freedom of fall

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bitty welcomes Dex back into the Haus with a slice of peach pie and an inquiry into how his summer was.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello! This is another short chapter and the second to last.  
> Warnings for a panic attack and homophobic language.  
> Enjoy!

          Bitty welcomes Dex back into the Haus with a slice of peach pie and an inquiry into how his summer was. Holster and Ransom are sitting at the dining table; Holster’s singing Disney songs as Ransom puts a beat under them. Suddenly, he starts rapping The Little Mermaid, putting Dex and Nursey in stitches. They lean into one another for support, laughing so hard that their faces split with the force of it, and it’s not the same as being back in Maine, but it’s better.

 

          Nursey comes over to Dex’s dorm almost every day. Since Dex has a single and Nursey has a roommate, Nursey claims that it’s “quieter” but even if he’s lying, Dex doesn’t care. He likes the company, likes _Nursey’s_ company.

          “Can you help me with this math thing?” Nursey asks as Dex is working on his coding. He turns in his desk chair.

          “You’re taking a math course?” he asks.

          Nursey shrugs. “It’s for a credit. Like the English course you took last year.” Dex doesn’t tell Nursey that he’s taking another English course this semester. It’s focused on poetry, actually, and Dex didn’t trick himself into thinking it wasn’t because of Nursey. As much as Dex cares for Nursey, sometimes it’s hard to decipher him. He figures that deciphering poetry is a start.

          “Alright. Budge over.” Nursey scoots over on Dex’s bed and Dex gets in next to him even though the bed is definitely not big enough for both of them. They squish together so Dex can see the problem set. They go through the questions one by one, Dex slowly explaining what is needed to get the answer. Nursey starts to do a few on his own, getting them right, too. When he looks over at Dex, grinning with pride, Dex feels it in his stomach, warm and liquid.

 

          Dex is on his way to the Haus, going over a line of code in his head as he walks. He arrives at the Haus to find Lardo trying to teach Tango a card game called Egyptian Rat Screw. It involves slapping at cards and Tango keeps exclaiming “Ow!” every once in a while, but he continues to play, so he must be having fun. Whiskey is there, for once, sitting on the couch and watching the proceedings as Holster and Chowder watch an episode of Bob’s Burgers.

          “How was your day, Dex?” Bitty asks, walking out of the kitchen with a bowl in his arms.

          “Good,” Dex says, taking off his bag. He sits with the team and watches TV, listening to Bitty talk about his new recipe and laughing as Tango continues to fail at cards. Eventually, they all end up playing Truth or Dare with the cards; everyone gets a number, and if your number is pulled, you get asked the dreaded question.

          Dex’s number is nine and Chowder pulls it on his first turn. He asks the question and Dex ponders it for a moment before saying, “Truth.” He’s comfy, sitting in between the bubbly Tango and the soft-like-a-bed Holster, so he’s not willing to get up. Right now, his unwillingness to get up overpowers his fear of answering a question about his past.

          “What is your favorite thing about Samwell?” Chowder asks, smiling goofily. Chowder never asks mean questions, which is part of the reason Dex felt comfortable enough to answer “Truth”.

          Dex hardly has to think about it before he says, “You guys.” Everyone calls him a sap, _aw_ -ing like children, but Dex just smiles when they ask him to be serious. He just shuts his eyes, leans his head against Holster’s chest, and lets himself be home.

 

 

          It’s a quiet night in at the Haus. Everyone’s here, even Whiskey even though there’s a party at the LAX frat tonight. He opted to stay in with the team, probably because Tango asked him to; Whiskey is completely gone on Tango. Bitty baked cookies, so they’re all watching Marvel movies and dipping an obscene amount of cookies into milk. Ransom and Holster told them that they’d all be doing suicides tomorrow if they ate all of Bitty’s cookies, but even the captains agreed that it was worth it.

          Captain America: The Winter Soldier ends and it gets quiet in the room. Gradually, Dex realizes that he can hear the music coming from the LAX frat now. It’s not the shitty music it usually is, which is surprising. Someone with taste must’ve gotten ahold of the iPod.  It wouldn’t be a problem, hearing the music- though, if Shitty were here, he’d go over and yell at them to turn it down just to start a fight- if it weren’t for one thing; the song.

          Bitty must realize it, too, as the chorus comes along, because his eyes go wide and worried as they turn on Dex.

          _Bye-bye Miss American Pie, drove my Chevy to the levee but the levee was dry…_

          Dex hears it, as quick as his reflexes on the ice. Hears his dad’s yelling, his mom’s crying, the party inside that was for him until he went bad. Suddenly Dex’s face hurts, stings at the points of contact, and he swears that he can feel blood dripping down his face. It’s so unexpected, too sudden to counter with any kind of calming techniques, that all he can do is shake in response.

          “Yo, Dex, brah, what’s wrong?” Nursey has his arm around Dex’s shoulder, something that had been comforting before, but now Dex feels like he’s suffocating.

          Bitty’s voice is clear and hard as he says, “Whiskey, go over to the LAX frat and tell them to change the song. Do whatever you have to do. Boys, give Dex some space.” He stands, walking over to the couch and bending down in front of Dex.

          “I can’t-I can’t-” Dex _hates_ this. Hates being weak in front of his friends, hates the hold his parents still have on him, hates this damn song and Don McLean and _faggot, faggot, faggot_.

          “Breathe with me, honey,” Dex’s hears, sweet as sugar, in his ear. He tries, but everything is blurry and he can’t hear Bitty breathe over the sound of _them good ole boys were drinking whiskey and rye_.

          Then Nursey is there, right next to him, and he’s speaking softly in Dex’s ear. “In, out, in, out. Good, good, Dex you’re doing so great.” Bitty and Nursey manage to get Dex back to normal breathing. By the time he’s conscious enough to realize it, the song is gone.

          He’s still shaky, but he doesn’t want to be here anymore. He ruined everyone’s night- or, at least, he thinks he did- and he just wants to go back to his dorm and curl up in a ball. Bitty frets, but he can’t stop Dex from leaving, as Dex is his own person. Dex apologizes to the rest of the team, all of them assuring him that there’s no need to be sorry, but he still feels like shit. He starts walking back to his dorm, only to realize that Nursey is walking next to him.

          He’s too tired to argue, so they walk back to Dex’s dorm together. When they get there, Dex changes into some loose sweats and a Samwell t-shirt while Nursey sits quietly on Dex’s bed.  Dex turns around and sees him sitting there, _still here_ , and feels so grateful and sad he doesn’t know if he should smile or sob.

          “Will you stay?” Dex hates how vulnerable he sounds. His father would have called him a pussy for needing someone to stay with him. His brother would have said the same thing and then they would have laughed at him.

          Nursey doesn’t laugh. “Yeah,” he says, seeming surprised. “Yeah, _yes_ , yes of course,” he says with more conviction. “Can I?” He gestures at the dresser Dex is standing in front of. Dex nods, backing away, allowing Nursey to get into the drawers. After Nursey changes, Dex sits on his bed for minute before getting under the covers. Nursey turns off the light and joins him.

          “I’m sorry,” Dex says. He might not be saying it to Nursey, he realizes, and that makes him start to cry.

          “You have nothing to be sorry for.” Dex wishes, fleetingly, that it isn’t Nursey who says it.

 

          It’s better after that, somehow, knowing that someone knows how to deal with him when he’s hurt. Sure, sometimes Dex remembers how it felt to have Nursey next to him all night, wrapped around him, warm and constant, and he feels a longing like no other, not even his longing for his family. With the longing for Nursey, there’s hope. But it’s better, this way. So much better.

 

          It’s Thanksgiving before he knows it and Hausgiving is happening. Dex is in the kitchen with Bitty all day, helping him cook and bake and clean. He likes being useful and Bitty likes having him in the kitchen. Every once in a while, a song will come on that makes Bitty dance and he makes Dex dance with him. He lets Dex lick the spoon- only after whatever it was in is finished, of course- and he makes Dex feel loved.

          The rest of the team comes in, including Shitty and both of the tadpoles, and soon they’re all dancing and laughing and eating. It’s loud like Thanksgiving back home, but warmer, somehow. Everyone here- even the tadpoles, Dex would guess- would be okay if they knew how he liked to kiss boys just as much as girls. It’s that freedom that makes it a home. You shouldn’t have to hide in a home, he thinks. All you should do at home is _be_.

 

          One night- literally the middle of the night, it’s four in the morning- Dex is walking home from the Haus after accidentally falling asleep and he stops, suddenly, in front of the Pond. No one is out, since it’s so early, and he’s completely alone with the serenity of the still Pond.

          “I like kissing boys,” Dex whispers. The Pond doesn’t move; it doesn’t explode in anger or rise up like a giant wave and consume Dex whole. It just stays perfectly poised, flat, like a mirror. “I also like kissing girls,” Dex says, a little louder. There’s still no change. He raises his voice as loud as it will go and dares to say, “I’m bisexual!”

          The mirror stays the same. Dex can see himself in it. Maybe for the first time.

 

          Dex feels the need to drive, strangely, so he texts Nursey and asks him if he wants to go driving with him. Nursey texts back _yes_ so quickly it makes Dex laugh. They get into Dex’s truck and Dex just drives until he doesn’t see shops anymore. They happen upon this little forest, hardly big enough to be called a forest. There’s a dirt road leading into it, so Dex takes it, and it ends at a clearing with a small pond in it. It’s way too cold to go walking, so they get in the bed of the truck, wrapped up in the blankets Dex keeps there. Nursey watches the nature and Dex watches Nursey and they both relax.

          “I’ve always loved fall,” Nursey murmurs after a while. “Rebirth, in a way.” He glances at Dex. “I kind of dig the idea of change, of something better.”

          Dex hums. “I always liked summer. The freedom.”

          Nursey nods like he’s listening, but he’s staring at Dex’s lips. He has the freedom now, Dex thinks, he might as well use it. Kissing Nursey would be jumping off a bridge and hoping that the water will be kind enough to catch him. So he jumps and it’s better than anyone else Dex has ever kissed before, maybe because Nursey’s so good at this or maybe because it’s Nursey.

          Nursey sighs, pulling back, and blinks his eyes open at Dex. “I never thought…” He shakes his head, smiling. “I’m glad I was wrong.”

          Dex smiles. “You’re always wrong.”

          Nursey kisses him to get the smirk off his face. Dex hopes that kissing will be the new go-to ending to all of their arguments.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you enjoyed! I know this chapter was short, too, but to make up for it, I'm posting the last chapter tomorrow, so check back for the finale tomorrow if you've liked it so far!  
> Comments and kudos are always appreciated, so feel free to leave either :)


	5. forget me not

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Everything is going great, until it's not.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello! This is the final chapter and I feel like it wraps up everything I was intending to wrap up. I hope you think the same.  
> Warnings for references to violence and homophobia.  
> Enjoy!

          By the time the next semester rolls around, Dex is better, the best he’s ever been, maybe. He hasn’t felt down since the night of the LAX frat party, the night that Nursey slept over for the first (and only) time. They’ve been taking it slow, not wanting to rush into things. There’s so much that they don’t know about each other and Dex wants to learn it all. That’s going to take some time.

          Hockey is going well; they’re second in the division and his chemistry with Nursey has never been stronger. Holster and Ransom keep sighing at each other and then saying, “They grow up so fast.” Apparently, they’re taking credit for his and Nursey’s relationship, which is fine with Dex, because he’d rather not admit just yet that the real reason is because he and Nursey spend most of their time together now, and a bunch of that time is spent kissing or tracing nonsensical patterns on each other’s skin or just _being_.

          The main thing, though, is that everything’s going _great_. He has a team that’s more like a family, he’s playing the best hockey he can, his schoolwork is all excellent, and he has a wonderfully frustrating best friend who is also his boyfriend that challenges him and makes him better at every turn.

          It all comes crumbling down when he sees Kitty standing next to a confused looking Coach Murray at Faber.

          “I’m sorry, sweetheart, but-”

          “I’m not your sweetheart!” Kitty says, angry.  She has tears in her eyes. “My brother is here and I know it! I want to see Will! Let me see Will! Let me see-”

          “Kitty.” It falls out of his mouth like broken shards of glass and it hurts, it _hurts_. She spins around, her long red hair flipping with her.

          “Will!” She runs at him, jumps into his arms, and he’s helpless to catch her.

          “What-what are you doing here? How-how.” Dex doesn’t know what to say. He vaguely wonders if he’s dreaming.

          “Poindexter, is everything okay?” Coach Murray asks, walking over. He’s got on a concerned parental expression, face wrinkled downwards with his frown.

          “Uh, yes, sir, a little family stuff. Would, uh, would it be okay if I skipped practice today?”

          “Yes, yes of course.” Murray doesn’t move. Something else occurs to Dex. He doesn’t feel strong enough to do this, not on his own, and that’s _okay_. Samwell, if it’s taught him anything, has taught him that it’s okay to need help sometimes.

          “Um, could you also let Nurse off today, too?”

          Murray’s frown softens and he nods, still not understanding, but pleased that Dex won’t be alone in whatever is going on here. “I’ll tell him to come out here.”

          As he walks towards the locker rooms, Dex pulls back from his hug with kitty and just-just stares at her for a moment. He had been planning to say something, but for the life of him he can’t remember now. She looks older; she’s taller and some of her baby fat has gone away, but not all of it. She’s still a kid; she’s still so _young_. She’s twelve, now, he realizes. Almost a teenager.

          “Hey, Kits,” he says, soft as a whisper. He knows he’s welling up. He smiles. “How’ve you been?”

          “ _Where’ve_ you been?” she asks, voice raw with tears. “Mom and Dad say you’ve been at college but you never visit and you never call. I miss you.”

          Her words ring around in his head, _I miss you_ , and it makes him hug her tighter.

          “Dex, what’s going-” Nursey stops when he sees Dex hugging a girl who looks just like him. His eyes go wide, confused, and he looks towards Dex. Dex doesn’t know what to say. He hasn’t explained to Nursey just yet why he doesn’t go back to Maine anymore and he doesn’t want to tell him now, in front of Kitty, who doesn’t know anything either.

          “Kits, did you tell Mom and Dad where you were going?” He pulls back to see her eyes are now downcast and she’s worrying her lip. “Kitty.”

          “They wouldn’t tell me why you didn’t visit!” she exclaims suddenly, her eyes meeting Dex’s. “I-I had to see you.”

          “They must be out of their mind worried for you.” Dex sighs, leaning back on his calves. He knows what this means. He can’t just send Kitty back on a bus or however she got down here and he can’t let his parents continue to think she’s lost. If they even do; it’s a school day, so they probably just think she’s in class. To get Kitty back to Maine, Dex is going to have to speak with his family at the very least, see them at the most. Dex looks over towards Nursey, hoping for some kind of reassurance, and the support in his eyes makes Dex’s shoulders loosen. Nursey has no idea what’s going on, but he’s behind Dex no matter what, it seems.

          He’s not alone, he tells himself. Nursey’s gaze tells him, too.

 

          “How did you get down here?” Dex asks Kitty. She’s sitting on his dorm room bed, Nursey and Dex sitting across from her.

          “I took the bus.” She’s curious, looking all around Dex’s dorm as if she’s in a museum. Dex can’t tell if she’s just interested or if she’s looking for evidence of herself, the family, traces of Dex’s childhood in Maine. “I got Teddy’s older sister to give me a ride to the stop.”

          “How did you know where to go?”

          “I called Samwell Hockey. The number is on the webpage. I was hoping your coach would give me your dorm number, but he didn’t. Then you showed up.” She looks at him then and smiles.

          “You know you have to go back, right?”

          She frowns. “That’s not fair.” Dex wants to tell her that life isn’t fair, but he’s always loved her too much for his usual bluntness.

          “You belong back home, with parents who can take care of you.” He wants to touch Nursey, reach out and grab his hand, but he suddenly feels like Kitty would guess why Dex was kicked out if Dex grabbed Nursey’s hand. He’s suddenly terrified that she would hate him, too.

          “You have to come visit, then!” she says emphatically. “You can’t just stay at college all the time. At least not on holidays!” She bites at her lip. “I even asked for you for Christmas and Mom and Dad couldn’t even get you to come back.”

          Dex grits his teeth, tears welling up again. “It’s complicated, Kits.”

          She scowls. “Adults are always complicated. It’s stupid.”

          Surprised, Dex laughs hoarsely. “Yeah, yeah it is.”

 

          “You don’t have to come with me,” Dex says as he and Nursey pack up Nursey’s car. It has a backseat for Kitty, unlike Dex’s truck.

          “Dex.” Nursey gives him a look that plainly says that he can see right through Dex’s bullshit and he isn’t letting him do this alone. He doesn’t even know why Dex is so scared, but he’s supporting him anyway. Dex loves him so much it cracks his chest with the size.

          “You have to call whoever’s home and tell them where you are,” Dex tells Kitty as he and Nursey get in the front seats of the car. He hands her his phone. “Do you know the number?”

          Kitty hums assent; all of the Poindexter kids learn their home numbers at the age of four, _just in case_. Dex thinks back to the payphone near Annie’s and sucks in a quick breath.

          “Hello?” Kitty says into the phone. “It’s Kitty. No, I’m not at school. I went to Massachusetts. To see Will.” There’s some yelling as Kitty winces. “No I didn’t tell anyone. Yes, we’re coming back now. Okay. Okay. O- _kay_. Yeah. Love you too.” She hangs up the phone, handing it back. “Maeve picked up; she’s home writing today. She sounded mad.”

          “Yeah because you left the freaking state without telling anyone.” Dex turns on the car and pulls out onto the street. “I would be mad, too.”

          “You left the freaking state without telling me, too.”

          Dex winces. “That was different.”

          “How?”

          “I-” _She’ll hate me too_ , he can’t help but think. Nursey squeezes his hand, quick and comforting, and Dex can breathe a little easier. “When you’re older it’ll make sense.”

          Kitty doesn’t like this answer, so she huffs and turns in her seat, staring out the window with a determined stubbornness Dex recognizes from himself.

 

          When Dex is positive that Kitty is out cold, he starts talking.

          “The day I got my Samwell acceptance letter, my folks threw this huge party,” Dex explains as he changes lanes on the highway. “I’d gotten a full ride, hockey and academics, and they were so proud. I felt like I was on cloud nine. One of the people they’d invited to the party was my best friend, Liam. Liam was also my-” Dex takes a quick breath. Talking about Liam brings him back to that time, a time when he couldn’t say “boyfriend” or “bisexual” because it felt like asking for a beating. “My boyfriend.

          “My mom walked in on us in my room.” The exit’s coming up, Dex notes, and also Nursey’s breath just hitched. Dex refuses to look at him; he’s driving, it’s not like he can anyway. “She got my dad, he-he chased me out of the house.” Dex doesn’t want to mention the hitting; he feels like the hitting makes it so much worse. “I got in my truck and I haven’t been back since. I stayed long enough to get my diploma, then I drove down to MA and got the job at the garage.”

          “Shit,” Nursey breathes out. “That’s-that’s-”

          “Pretty fucked up, yeah.” Dex exits the highway. He’s closer to home than he’s been since getting his first tattoo.

          “Did they- they didn’t _tell_ you not to come back, though, right? Maybe they-” Nursey stops as he realizes that Dex is shaking his head.

          “My father’s exact words were, “Never come back, faggot” so I’m pretty sure I’m not welcome.” Dex can see the outskirts of the town, the beginnings of houses and stores. His heartrate picks up but his shoulders relax a little as he gets a whiff of the Maine air. Nursey doesn’t reply, just grabs Dex’s fingers and squeezes for all he’s worth. Dex thinks that it’s much better than anything he could have said.

          “Are we there yet?” Dex hears mumbled from the backseat.

          “Almost, Kits.” Dex sees the street he grew up on. He forces his hands to keep the steering wheel straight when all they want to do is turn around. He pulls up in front of the house. His parents’ car isn’t in the driveway. Maybe it will only be Maeve inside. She was never one to spit homophobic slurs, so maybe he can just drop Kitty off and leave before he’s emotionally scarred once again.

          Kitty hops out as soon as Dex parks, but Dex waits a moment to say, “Whatever you do, if it comes down to it, don’t yell back. Please.”

          “I won’t,” Nursey assures, looking straight in Dex’s eyes. “I love you,” he says, calm as anything, unwavering. Dex loves him too, loves him so much that it makes everything in his life better, even this, but he feels too weak to say it now, too weak to even touch Nursey. He hopes Nursey can understand that.

          They get out of the car and follow Kitty up the steps. She pushes open the front door without knocking and Dex’s heart tightens as he remembers a time when he used to do that. Now it feels like barging in on a stranger’s home.

          “I’m home!” Kitty yells into the house. Maeve comes running into the foyer from the living room, breathing labored and eyes wide. Her gaze snaps instantly to Dex.

          “Will,” she says in a voice so small that an ant could carry it away. “I-” She doesn’t continue, just starts to cry, slow dripping tears and then heavy, painful ones. Kitty stares between them, confused, and Dex doesn’t know what to make of them. He’s long since stopped categorizing tears as happy or sad and he has no idea what’s going on in Maeve’s heart right now.

          It starts to become clear, though, when she rushes over and wraps her arms around him. “I was so-so-” _hiccup_ “-worried. I didn’t know where-where you’d went, didn’t know how to-how to call. You just _disappeared_.”

          “That was kind of the point,” Dex says, quiet. “I didn’t know what Dad was going to do.” This makes Maeve start crying harder and the shoulder of Dex’s shirt becomes wet. “Hey, it’s okay.”

          “No it’s _not_.” Maeve pulls back. “I-I just let him do that to you, Will. I-I couldn’t even see your face under-” She cuts herself off, realizing that Kitty is still standing right next to them. She straightens herself up, taking a deep breath. “I’m sorry. I’m _so_ sorry.”

          “I forgive you,” Dex says, ‘cause he knows that’s what she needs to hear. She’s still crying, but her shoulders loosen a little. They stand staring at one another for a few long moments, trying to remember if the person in front of them matches the memory of them from over a year earlier. Maeve cut her hair, so it’s a bob now. It’s stylish, cute; different. It gets uncomfortable for Dex, bringing back the endless nights where he wondered what had changed back home. He looks around the foyer for a distraction, inspects the pictures hanging on the walls. Any picture he was in seems to have been taken down. This reminds him instantly that he is not welcome here by the majority of the house. “Uh, what time will they be home?” he asks, suddenly afraid again.

          Maeve seems to remember this, too. Her expression darkens and she suddenly looks trapped. As passionate as Maeve is, as rebellious as she can be, even she cowers at the idea of their parents. Dex doesn’t judge her for it; he’s the same way. Maeve says, “Junior will be home by six, Mom and Dad by seven thirty.” Dex glances at the clock that hangs above the doorway; it’s around four now. Dex has a little less than two hours to leave. A little less than two hours to talk to the people he hasn’t stopped thinking about since two Mays ago.

          “What’s going on?” Kitty asks, finally breaking her silence. Maeve looks down at her, her features pinched. She must not know how to explain this to Kitty without removing all her faith in their parents. Or maybe she thinks Kitty won’t be okay with the Kissing Boys thing either. It’s not hers to explain, Dex gets that; he shouldn’t force it on her. So he kneels down in front of Kitty, a little lower than her eye-level, and looks her straight on. He’s never been one to sugar-coat a situation, but this is different. He doesn’t know where to draw the line.

          “You know how Mom and Dad have rules?” he eventually decides on. It’s close enough of an explanation without revealing too much. “Like you have to go to bed by nine and no sweets before dinner?” Kitty nods hesitantly, confused. “I broke one of their rules. A really big one. They’re mad at me. So mad that I can’t come visit anymore.” Nursey, who’s standing behind Kitty, tightens his jaw and Dex silently pleads with him not to say anything. Nursey nods because he understands, somewhat, and, _God_ , Dex loves him.

          “Can’t you just say you’re sorry?” she asks, eyes wide with hope and innocence. Dex would hate himself if he took this from her.

          “Not this time, Kits.” He wonders, if he apologized, would his parents let him get a word out or would it just be a recreation of the night he left? If he pledged himself to heterosexuality and promised to never disgrace them again, would he be welcomed back or cast off completely? Then again, Dex thinks as he looks up at Nursey, standing there ever-present and supportive, Dex isn’t sorry. He is bisexual; he knows that in his soul. He likes kissing boys and loving boys just as much as kissing and loving girls and he will not feel bad about that. There is _nothing_ to feel bad about in that. Still, Kitty’s face crumples and she throws her arms around Dex’s shoulders, hugging him so tightly that the breath in his lungs is squeezed out.

          “You can’t just leave again!” she says, the force of it cracking Dex’s chest open in the worst of ways.

“I’m sorry, Kits,” Dex says, trying to conceal the brokenness in his voice out of some residual memory of how men should show emotion.

Kitty pulls back, suddenly, and says hesitantly, “You-you could call.” She gradually brightens at her idea. “Call Mae! She has a phone you could call and we could talk!”

          Dex… hadn’t actually thought of that. The fear that one of his parents might pick up has prevented him from calling since he got his mom’s voice message. He forgot about Maeve, as his parents cut him out of the phone plan after the whole thing, and he got a new number and lost all his contacts. Dex looks at Maeve, who nods, smiling a little, surprised. It seems both of them have been outsmarted by an eleven year old. It’s overwhelming, the idea of talking to his family again, and he almost feels like he’s going to black out with euphoria. Nursey’s hand settles on his shoulder, heavy and comforting, and Dex breathes out a sigh, blissfully content.

 

          Upstairs, Kitty is showing Nursey the collection of action figures she’s inherited from Dex and Junior over the years. She and Nursey seem to get on so well. Dex doesn’t know what to make of it; on one hand, he’s super excited that his baby sister likes his boyfriend, but on the other hand, the implications of Kitty getting on so well with Nursey are numerous and worrying. One being; Dex is going to be overruled if the two of them team up. He can hardly say no to one of them at a time; how is he going to say no to both of them? Dex is trying not to dwell on it too hard as he and Maeve talk quietly over cups of cocoa in the kitchen downstairs.

          “Yeah, writing has been going well,” Maeve says, smiling into her mug. “I’ve got a novel ready to be published, just working out a few kinks. I’m pretty excited.”

          “That’s awesome, Mae,” Dex says, beaming. “I told you you’d make it.” She nods softly.

          “Yeah, you always did.” Her eyes go sad for a moment before she shakes her head. “How’s Samwell?”

          “Amazing, actually.” He smiles at the doorway, thinking of Nursey upstairs entertaining Kitty. “I love my classes, they’re all incredibly interesting and I’m learning so much. The team is great; everyone is sw’awesome and welcoming.” He gestures with his chin towards the stairs. “Nurse is actually my defensive partner on the team.”

          Maeve nods, posture tensing for a moment. She looks at him warily for a moment and then asks slowly, “And you and Nurse…?” This confirms Dex’s earlier theory that his parents told Maeve what happened. Or she figured it out for herself. He always thought that he hid it so well, but maybe not.

          “Would you be okay with that?” he asks. As much as he loves her, he wouldn’t hold it against her if she was uncomfortable with the idea of Dex dating a man. He knows that she hasn’t had much exposure to the whole thing.

          “Yeah,” she says slowly, “yeah, I’m fine. As long as you’re happy.”

          Nursey and Kitty choose this moment to run into the room and start speaking rapidly about some book that the both of them are crazy about, talking over one another and the both of them grinning so wide they look ridiculous. Dex knows his own face mirrors theirs.

          “I guess that’s not a question, then,” Maeve says. Dex laughs and shakes his head. This moment is so settling, comforting, _perfect_ he even dares to think.

 

          Of course, it does come to an end.

          “Do you have to go?” Kitty asks at 5:55 later that afternoon. They’ve spent the afternoon just talking, doing simple things. Dex reveled in the simplicity and comfort of the afternoon, but he knows he has to leave now. He’s already cutting it pretty close, but for Kitty, it’s worth it.

          “Sorry  Kits,” Dex mumbles into her shoulder. “I’ll call you, okay? And you can call me. I will always answer the phone.” He pulls back. “I love you,” he says emphatically, looking her straight in the eye.

          “Love you too,” she mumbles, eyes wet and red. She glances down at where Dex is holding her in their hug and sees his jacket sleeve has ridden up. The bright colors underneath draw her attention and she frowns, curious. She takes his wrist in her hands and pushes up his sleeve further to expose the tattoo underneath. Her eyes widen. “Is this for me?”

          “Yeah.” Dex smiles as her eyes widen even further. “I was always thinking of you. My Kitty.” Kitty grins and launches herself at Dex once more, hugging him so tight it hurts, but in a good way. It feels like he’s wanted; like he’s loved, unconditionally. The hug lasts a little too long, it seems, because when Dex pulls back, there is a car pulling into the driveway. It’s the black Honda civic that Dex’s dad used to own, the one Dex and Junior spent a summer fixing up together. Junior drove Dex to hockey practice in that car when it was too rainy or cold to walk. They drove to work together over the summer in that car, sharing the sleepy quiet of the early mornings.

          Junior steps out of the driver’s seat, looking so much like their father that Dex actually flinches. He stops when he sees the scene playing out in front of him; Dex kneeling in front of Kitty, Maeve behind her and Nursey behind him. His expression hardens as he looks on and Dex can’t tell anything beyond that. He doesn’t move or say anything. To himself, Dex thinks that this is Junior’s way of being kind. This is his gift to his only brother; silence.

          “Let’s go, Nursey,” Dex says quietly. Nursey nods and hops in the passenger’s seat. Dex presses one more kiss to Kitty’s head before walking around the car and getting in the driver’s seat. Kitty starts crying in earnest, probably still worried that this will be it, and Maeve wraps her arms around Kitty, resolutely not looking at Junior. Dex does the opposite and keeps his eyes on Junior, waiting for something to happen, but Junior just watches with his cold eyes, unwavering. Silently, Dex says thank you; thank you for not ruining this moment.

          Dex drives off, feeling different. Not better or worse; just different.

 

          Somewhere around the state line, Dex pulls over next to a random stream and gets out of the car. He strips off his socks and shoes, just like the day of his high school graduation, and Nursey joins him without saying anything. They happen upon a small, secluded pond miraculously. Dex strips off everything but his boxers and dives in. It’s cold, freezing, but it reinstates that this is _real_. All of this was _real_.

          He surfaces, breathing hard, overwhelmed. He opens his eyes to see Nursey standing there, brow furrowed.

          “You okay?” he asks.

          “I-” Dex looks around him, the forest brimming with life and potential. He feels the same, feels like he belongs here. He takes a deep breath. “I think so.” He looks back at Nursey, a small smile on his face. “I just- I never thought- never _dreamed_ \- that I would ever be welcome back there. The-the anger on my dad’s face when he hit me, it just felt so final. Like I was no one to him anymore; nothing better than the fags he had complained about my entire life. And my mom, she acted like I was dead or something just because I liked kissing boys. I was dead to them the second they found out.

          “But not to Maeve and Kitty.” Dex’s smile begins to widen. “I’m still _Will_ to them. It doesn’t matter to them.”

          Nursey smiles back hesitantly. Dex laughs, surging up and kissing him.

          “ _God_ , I love you. You know that right? I love you. So much.”

          Nursey’s smile widens. “I love you, too. I’m glad I could be here for you.”

          “Thank you, for that. You are so good. So good.” Dex kisses him again. “So wonderful, Nursey,” he says against Nursey’s mouth. “I love you.”

          Dex goes all bubbly and Nursey lets him, taking it all in with a smile. He listens as Dex talks about Maine, his childhood and all the good things. After today, Maine doesn’t represent everything bad any more. Dex allows himself to remember the good things and tell them to Nursey. He also himself to reminisce and not be sad. It’s sw’awesome, is the only way Dex can describe it. At some point, Dex finds himself rubbing at his tattoos again and suddenly has the urge to explain them.

          “This one, here,” Dex says, holding up his ankle, “was my first. It was supposed to help while I was so alone. Strong shoes, stony path, something my Gran used to say.” He goes through them one by one. The fire that couldn’t be contained, so he knows to never contain his true self. The balloon to remind himself to let things go, to let himself stand tall, to share the weight he’s carrying. The kitty, Kitty, to always remember the purity in his life and the people who are good. The skates, the other support in his life aside from his strong shoes, the balance of his old family and his new. The existence of his tattoos represents his patched up family; Jenny with her grief, the guys at the shop with their small pocket of comfort and home, Andy with her harshness who softens herself for the people she loves, the bikers at the bar who defy all expectations and are exactly who they want to be.

          After Dex finishes explaining, Nursey offers Dex his shoulder blade. On it, there’s this beautiful bird decorated in every color Dex can think of. “It’s the one I got when you brought me to Andy’s,” Nursey says, quiet. “When I left Andover and all the rich assholes who didn’t understand differences from their own, I felt so free, you know? It-it was kind of overwhelming. Originally I got it to symbolize that freedom, but recently I’ve kind of looked at it as, “I can be free and adventurous, but I’ve always got a nest to go back to.” I’ve got a home.”

          Nursey looks at Dex when he says that last part and Dex knows what he means viscerally. Dex kisses him because he feels all out of words for the day. Nursey, of course, gets it, and they kiss in the middle of nowhere, lost in each other, and okay with it. It doesn’t matter; they’re both home.

 

          Nursey walks into Dex’s dorm and drops his bag, taking a seat on Dex’s bed even though Dex is already lying in it. Draping his legs over Dex’s, Nursey leans down and smacks a kiss to Dex’s face. Dex wipes at it, grinning stupidly as he listens to Kitty tell him about her history project.

          “… _and there were these women, called the Night Witches, who flew in these terrible planes and had really bad supplies but still managed to fight in the war just as good as the men! And they used their navigation pencils as lipstick so they’d look pretty while doing it and they decorated their planes with flowers and stuff because they wanted people to know that they were women and proud of it!_ ” Kitty says, rambling on cutely.

          “That sounds so cool,” Dex says. “I have a friend who knows all about World War II. Maybe you should talk to him about history sometime. He’s a huge nerd too.” Kitty objects to this loudly and Dex smiles.

          “That Kitty?” Nursey mouths. Dex nods. “Tell her I say hi,” he says quietly.

          “Nursey says hi,” Dex says.

          “ _Is he there? Let me talk to him!_ ”

          Dex hands over the phone. Nursey smiles as he holds it to his ear. “Hey Kit Kat. How’s _To Kill a Mockingbird_ treating you?”

          As Dex watches Nursey smile widely as he talks to Dex’s little sister about books, he thumbs at the forget-me-not flowers going up and down his bicep. He got it after his first visit with Kitty after she came down to Samwell. They spent the day in a town a few miles away from their hometown; Dex, Maeve, Kitty, and Nursey walking around, window shopping, enjoying one another’s company. They stumbled upon a florist and the woman working there explained the meaning of some of the flowers.

          “Forget-me-nots can mean a lot of things,” she had said. “A connection that lasts through time, reminders of a favorite time with another person, or a strong relationship despite separation.” Then she leaned in conspiratorially and smiled. “ _My_ favorite interpretation is true and undying love. But that’s just me.”

          Andy did a great job with the tattoo. She really is an artist, especially with the water color stuff she does. It’s pretty, the blue and purple mingling across Dex’s skin in a delightful splash of unexpected color.

          Dex has realized that he got his tattoos in an attempt at permanence. A place holder for something that will never leave. Some desperate longing for the unconditional love he was told he always had, but didn’t really. As he watches Nursey laugh at some ridiculous pun Kitty told Dex ten minutes ago, Dex knows that the tattoos aren’t a place holder anymore.

          He’s got the real thing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you liked it! I know I left a lot to interpretation, particularly the OCs, and I'm sorry about that, but this isn't their story :(.  
> Thank you to everyone who's stuck with me through these chapters. You all made me excited to post new things and even changed some plot points or extras just with what you commented. You all have made this an awesome experience, so thank you so much!  
> Comments and kudos are always appreciated, so feel free to leave both :)  
> Update: There is now fanart to go along with this fic! Thank you to the lovely [reallygeneralbread](http://reallygeneralbread.tumblr.com/) for [this](http://likeshipsonthesea.tumblr.com/post/155213990055/aaah-look-at-this-his-tattoo-and-his-hair-and-his) beautiful masterpiece!

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you liked it! I plan on posting the next chapter (as this will be about five chapters long) sometime soon. It's all written, I've just got to edit it. So if you liked this chapter, stay tuned for the next one!  
> As always, comments and kudos are much appreciated, so leave either if you'd like :)


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